


Retrocausality

by zerostumbleine33



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Explicit Language, M/M, Temporary Character Death, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerostumbleine33/pseuds/zerostumbleine33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas travels back in time from the year 2115 to 2015 to meet his estranged father. Determined to understand his father's disappearance from his life, he enrolls in the same high school that his father attended. Along the way, Cas looses his time traveling device and must figure out a way to get home. What he doesn’t plan on is meeting Dean, and the bond that quickly forms despite being from two completely different worlds. A catastrophe brings them together and they both must decide what is most important to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my betas, [Ali](http://dudewheresmypie.tumblr.com/), [Sarah](http://ssjdebusk.tumblr.com/), and [Lily](http://still-lilykep.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, thank you to my artist, Bisma, and you can find her work [here](http://moonliteknight.livejournal.com/8255.html) or [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5230139)
> 
> This is my third time doing DCBB and it is always a blast and I hope you have fun reading as well :)

 

_ _

 

_“Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.” -Cloud Atlas, David Mitchell_

 

Castiel’s hair whipped around his face as a gust of wind blew past him, and he felt his feet hit solid ground. He opened his eyes slowly, one at a time, as they registered the sudden change in scenery. One second he’d been in his bedroom, and the next he found himself standing in the middle of a cracked asphalt paved road as he watched the dust settle around his feet. He was surprised; he’d been hoping to arrive closer to town but instead was standing facing an empty road ahead. A loud horn honked and Castiel turned around just in time to see a large black car hurtling towards him at an alarming speed. He dove to his right, one hand tightly grasped around the small gold object in his right hand. He landed hard on his side as the car slid to a stop, leaving tracks on the pavement as Castiel let go of the small duffle bag in his left hand. He let his head rest gently on the ground as he took a deep breath and winced in pain. _At least I’m not dead_ , he thought wryly as he opened eyes to see the car door open and a pair of heavy brown boots run over. _At least I’m here_.

 

“Are you okay, man?”

 

Castiel looked up and blinked a few times, still slightly dazed. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected but it certainly wasn’t the worried face of a very attractive teenager who looked about his own age with striking green eyes and freckles smattered across a tanned face. Castiel nodded and sat up, wiping the sand from his arm. The other guy extended a hand towards him, which he accepted, and was pulled quickly to his feet.

“You sure you’re fine?”

Castiel felt along his ribcage, noting the tenderness, but not much else. “I’m fine, just some bruised ribs probably.”

The other boy nodded, his lips drawn tightly. “You came outta nowhere, man, I swear I was watching the road, and it was like one second it was open pavement and the next second you were right there in the middle of the road.” He shook his head and looked back at his car.

“I apologize,” Castiel replied, as he looked at the other boy and realized how puzzling the situation seemed. “I’m Castiel,” he said, extending his hand slowly.

“Dean,” the the other replied, taking his hand firmly and shaking it. “Listen, uh, can I give you a ride home or anything? We’re like ten miles out from town,” he said as he looked at Castiel with a curious expression.

“Oh, yes, I was on a...hike,” Castiel replied, trying not to look down at his clothing which clearly was not appropriate for this particular lie: khaki pants and a white linen shirt that was now dirt stained and untucked. He cleared his voice as he realized he hadn’t responded yet. “I would love a ride to town.”

Dean shrugged and nodded towards the passenger side. “Hop in.”

As Castiel slid into the warm leather seat, a small smile slid across his face. He’d never actually been in a self-running car before and the novelty certainly wasn’t lost on him. He ran his hands over the control deck slowly, taking in the various knobs.

The driver’s side door opened and Dean sat down with comfortable ease, one arm draped over the steering wheel. “She’s a great car, right?”

“I’ve never been in one this old,” Castiel said carefully.

“It was my dad’s and I helped fix it up. Now she’s mine.” Dean said with a proud grin, his fingers flicking a button the dashboard. “I hope you like classic rock.”

*********

 

The ride was short and sweet, with the windows rolled down and humid summer air that warmed the worn leather seats beneath them. They rolled into town and Dean turned down his music as he looked over at the guy next to him. He was a weird sort of handsome, with deep blue eyes and dark, messy hair.

“Is right here okay?” Dean asked, breaking the comfortable silence of their car ride as he pulled up to the curb outside a small bakery.

“This is perfect,” he replied as he opened the door and got out, stretching slightly.

Dean watched as the strange boy closed his car door carefully, his fingers draped gently on the open window sill. He was from out of town, Dean knew that much was true and the boy had been quiet about his past...but Dean could understand that. He never talked about his own home life if he could avoid it.

“Thank you for the ride, Dean,” the other boy said. Dean mentally kicked himself for already forgetting his name. _Shit_.

“No problem, man. Sorry about the whole, you know, almost killing you thing,” Dean said with a small smile. “I’ll see ya around.”

The other boy nodded his head as Dean turned his key, his impala roaring to life beneath him. At least the kid could appreciate a nice car, too bad he was probably just visiting a friend on summer break. For Dean, the summer hadn’t been long enough, and he wished for a moment that he had the chance to wander into a strange town with no strings attached and just experience life.

He drove slowly through the small downtown of his hometown in Lawrence, Kansas. It wasn’t anything special; no marquee over the run-down theatre and no novelty ice cream shop that boasted the best double mint scoops in the midwest. Dean was about to start his senior year of high school, and he felt trapped in the same bubble he’d always lived in. He didn’t hate it, it was comfortable and it was home, but he’d felt bored. His entire summer had languished away under the hood of a car as he worked at Singer Auto, and the camping and fishing trips that he’d talked about with his brother had somehow never happened. He wondered how an outsider saw it, what they thought of the small homes and the dirt roads winding off the main asphalt path through the entire town. Dean shook his head and turned up the volume on his console, drowning out his thoughts with the sound of Freddie Mercury reverberating in his ear.

*********

Dean hadn’t meant to take so long to come home, he’d gone the scenic way home from Bobby’s shop after he’d picked up his last summer paycheck. The last big one he’d have for a while since school was starting again. Then there was the incident with almost hitting that kid on the highway, and Dean still wasn’t sure how it happened. He’d driven around for a while after that, his windows down and music blaring as he pushed 80 down a few country roads that were almost always empty. Dean knew he had to start getting more than a few hours of sleep if he was starting to lose it while driving; driving was all he really had sometimes. By the time he pulled into the gravel driveway behind his dad’s pickup truck, the sun was already down and the mosquitos were out biting at his legs. His hand idly swatted at the bugs near his ankles as he rolled up his windows and took a deep breath. Coming home often felt like entering a battlefield. He pulled open the dark green door and stepped inside, his eyes landing on an empty whiskey bottle laying on its side in the kitchen.

Dean slammed the door behind him as he entered, grabbing the dirty glasses that littered the kitchen countertops. A head peeked up from the couch, grunting. Dean didn’t acknowledge his father, throwing the stack of cups into the sink with a loud crash.

“Goddammit, don’t break the fucking glasses, and keep it down!” his dad bellowed from the other room.

Dean looked over the island towards the living room, where he could see his father struggle to stand up.

“One too many drinks again?” Dean asked evenly as he stepped into the living room.

“Watch your mouth, boy.” The haze from his eyes seemed to clear, and the grit and gravel in his voice cut Dean straight to the bone, as it always had.

“Yes, sir,” he replied as he turned around to finish picking up. It wasn’t worth the fight anymore, but Dean couldn’t help picking one every once in awhile  anyway.

“Sammy home?” He asked, hoping his father hadn’t forgotten to check on his other son before he’d spent the afternoon at the bar.

He got no response. His hands balled into tight fists at his sides and he took a deep breath before he walked up the old flight of stairs towards his brother’s room. He knocked quietly before he opened it a crack. His brother was nose deep in a book, his eyes scanning quickly from side to side.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean said as he stepped in, shutting the door behind him. “Studying already? You haven’t even had your first day yet.”

“Summer reading,” his brother said as he slid a piece of paper between the pages.

“They assign that before freshman year?” Dean asked jokingly as he looked at the cover of the book suspiciously.

Sam rolled his eyes. “For those of us who actually do our homework, yes, there’s summer reading.” His brother held out the book for him to take.

“ _The Catcher in the Rye_ , huh?” Dean flipped through the pages with a small smile on his face. “I actually read this one. It’s good.”

His brother widened his eyes in mock surprise, “You know how to read?”

Dean tossed the book gently back at Sam. “Yeah, be careful or you’re walking to school tomorrow.”

A small smile flit across Sam’s face but quickly fell as he whispered, “Dad drunk again?”

Dean nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s still early, he’ll make it to work tomorrow I’m sure.”

Sam looked down at his hands and sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Don’t worry about it , okay? Focus on school, and get some sleep tonight,” Dean said as he tapped on the cover of the book before tossing it onto the end of Sam's bed.

“Night, Dean,” his brother said as he closed the door slowly.

Dean stepped into his room and slammed the  door, the one bit of defiance he allowed himself for the night. He kicked off his boots, took two steps towards his bed, and collapsed face first into his pillow. He inhaled deeply, allowing the smell of clean linen to calm him. He’d somehow found the time to wash everything before the school year started. Living  with three guys, it was easy to let the house turn into a pigsty. Dean rolled over onto his back and stared at his ceiling, the fan spinning slowly and slightly off-kilter.

The day had been strange, and somehow Dean had been filled with a feeling of longing for something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. His mind drifted again to the strange kid he’d almost hit. He wished he could remember the guy’s name.  Dean couldn’t shake the memory. The boy’s messy brown hair, dark blue eyes, and muscular build flitted in and out of his mind. He had to be honest, the guy was fairly attractive.  He’d been quiet, but there was a certain intensity to him. It was liike squinting at the sun, even if you wanted to keep looking, you had to turn away. The feeling shook him, scared him to his bones for a variety of reasons. He groaned and dragged his hands down his face, trying to clear his head of the the drive that had lasted both an eternity and no time at all.

 

 


	2. Extended Stay

    

Castiel dropped his bag onto the small round table by the kitchen and took a deep breath. It had somehow worked, everything had gone according to his plan. He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and set it down gently, his fingers resting on the top of the green paper. He’d managed to trade an expensive set of jewelry for money that he desperately needed. It had been a hassle when he’d realized that in the year 2015, paper money was still used, which rendered his personal bank account essentially useless.

 

He realized that he hadn’t eaten all day as his stomach growled in annoyance. He walked slowly around the kitchen, shaking his head as he looked at the outdated appliances. It was nothing like what he was used to. Castiel opened the formerly white, now yellow-ish, refrigerator and peered inside. To his dismay it was empty, and he realized he’d need to find some form of food for the night. He walked past the kitchen into the small living area, with a pull-out couch and a television. It was nothing fancy. The Extended Stay America was cheap, but he didn’t need much. He went through the door to the right to look at the bedroom and connecting bathroom. It was pleasant and clean enough.

 

Castiel sat down on the bed, relief flooding through him. He’d gone from Seattle, Washington, the year 2115, to the year 2015 in Lawrence, Kansas. _I made it_ , he thought with a small smile. As he noted the pink and green floral bedspread and dark green carpet, he laughed at how little some things had changed, which apparently included hotel interior design. On the nightstand was a pile of books, which Castiel grabbed as he felt his stomach rumble once again. He set aside the book on top, The Bible, with a shake of his head. A full binder was beneath it, with everything from dining recommendations to bar suggestions with daily specials highlighted.

 

He flipped through the laminated pages, stopping every so often to look at the advertisements for events in the town. It shocked him still, to know this was where his father had grown up. He’d done his research of course, but there’s a difference between learning about history and then living it. His hand stopped as his eyes landed on a pizza delivery service. Castiel scanned the room, looking for a phone. He’d had to leave all his own electronics back in his own time, and it left him feeling very disconnected. He stood up and wandered out to the living area with the binder still in his hand. There he found a telephone on the table beside the small grey couch.

 

He picked it up, the unfamiliar dial-tone ringing in his ear as he pressed each key. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ordered delivery before, but it was all done so differently. He placed his order over the phone, awkwardly unsure of how payment was conducted. It didn’t take long to figure it out however, the woman on the phone was pleasant and quick to rush him through the ordering process. In just a few minutes, he’d ordered his first medium pepperoni pizza in 2015. He hoped it was enough to last him two meals at least. He set the phone down gently, grabbed his duffel bag from the kitchen, and brought it to the bedroom, unpacking his items carefully. His clothing was ironed and folded, the few things he’d brought with him that he hoped would allow him to fit in. At the bottom of his bag was a large plastic envelope, sealed. He opened it, letting the contents fall onto the bed, several pieces of paper and a small golden orb.

 

The papers he organized into stacks, based on their use. He’d gone to great lengths to procure the proper identification for himself. It meant changing his last name, since he couldn’t use his father’s. He fingers grazed over the laminated ID photo sporting the name “Castiel Novak,” and an incorrect birthday. He dropped that down as he looked over the documents that would hopefully allow him to enroll in school.

 

A knock at the door startled Castiel, and he quickly shuffled his papers back into a small pile before he jogged towards the door, opening it wide. A boy about his own age in a red t-shirt that said “Orlando’s” on it looked back at him expectantly.

 

“Uh, delivery for...Novak?” He said as he checked the name on the box. “This is room 203 right?”

 

Castiel nodded as he grabbed the box. “Sorry,” he said, grabbing a few bills from the kitchen table. “It is $10 right?” He asked as he handed over a crisp twenty dollar bill.

 

The boy nodded as he counted out the money. “How much do you want back?”

 

Castiel looked at him, tilting his head slightly to the right in confusion. The math was simple enough. “Ten, please.”

 

The kid rolled his eyes and scoffed as he pulled out a few dollars from his pocket, muttering under his breath about tips.

 

“Wait,” Castiel said, realizing his error. He’d forgotten that tipping was still customary. “You can keep the rest,” he said with a nod.

 

The kid looked at him and feigned a smile. “Have a good night.”

 

Castiel shut the door and let out a large breath. He wasn’t always the best at social interactions but that had been painfully awkward. _In the future, I should stick to shopping for my own food_ , he thought wryly.

 

He took the box to his bedroom and sat on the bed with it, his hand closing around the small gold object on the bed. He pulled a matching one out from his coat pocket and held one in each hand. He flipped them both open and stared at the holographic numbers inside. The orb in his left hand blinked with the number one, and the one in his right hand read the number thirty. It was plenty of trips, enough obviously to get home with before anyone even knew he’d been gone; before his mother realized. He tucked the one in his left hand back into his duffel bag into the zippered pocket. The other one he set on his nightstand, easy to grab in case of an emergency. Castiel sat back against the pillows and kicked his shoes off as he opened the pizza box in a swift motion, his mouth watering at the sight of food.

 

*****

Two large knocks on his door startled Dean out of sleep, his eyes opening slowly as his brother barged in his room.

 

“We’re going to be LATE, Dean. Get up!”

 

Dean rolled over and groaned, realizing he’d fallen asleep in the clothes he’d been wearing, hadn’t showered, and never set the alarm on his phone.

 

“Five minutes, I swear, you can’t make me late on my first day,” Sam said sternly as he slammed Dean’s door shut and stomped down the stairs.

 

The school year was already getting off to a great start, Dean thought to himself as he swung his legs over his bed and stretched his arms above his head. He knew he’d never hear the end of it if he made Sam late, _again_ , so he sped up a bit. He flung his t-shirt off and slipped on a grey henley that looked and smelled clean enough. He opened his dresser and grabbed a pair of clean socks that he slipped on as he peered briefly into the mirror above it. It was covered in dust which made it hard to see through, but Dean shrugged as he flattened his hair down with his hands. _Good enough_.

 

He grabbed his empty backpack from the corner and slung it over his shoulder as he left his room, his boots in his hand. He heard his brother call his name again from downstairs.

 

“I’m coming,” he yelled in annoyance as he slipped his foot into one boot and hobbled towards the stairs sliding the other one on. “Jesus, fuck, calm down,” he muttered under his breath. He wasn’t exactly a morning person.

 

As Dean reached the kitchen he looked around, scanning the dirty countertop for his keys. He mumbled a few more choice words as he looked around, pushing aside dirty plates that he knew he’d have to wash when he got home. He looked up as he heard the blare of his car horn and rolled his eyes as he stepped out the front door, slamming it behind him.

 

“Let’s go,” Sam said urgently as he slid from the driver’s seat to the passenger side, the engine already rumbling.

 

Dean pulled open his door and glared at his brother as he sat down with a huff.

 

 


	3. First Day

The first bell rang above Dean’s head as he bolted towards his first class, which was inconveniently on the other end of the school. He’d let Sam out before he parked and doubled back around, hoping he wouldn’t be _too_ late. As he turned around a corner, he nearly bumped into a tall man with a round stomach.

 

“Sorry, Coach!” Dean said as he slowed to a stop.

 

“You better be trying out for the team this year, Winchester,” the man said with a nod.

 

Dean shook his head and laughed as he tried to catch his breath. “Out of shape,” he said with a shrug as he hoisted his backpack further around one shoulder.

 

“One month, kid,” Coach Domina said, pointing a finger at Dean. “Tryouts in a month.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said with a small grin before the next bell rang. “Gonna be late,” he called over his shoulder  as he took off running down the hallway again. As much as he would have loved to join the baseball team, he just never had time. Between school and work, he just couldn’t make it happen. He’d quit the team his freshman year and hadn’t been able to rejoin since then. Although it would be nice to not have to be responsible for everything at home, that just wasn’t reality . He dodged another teacher rounding a corner and continued  down the hallway.

 

As Dean passed the main office, he thought he caught sight of a familiar figure with messy brown hair. It was probably his imagination and he felt silly for being so hopeful. He reached his classroom just as the last bell rang and he sauntered in with a grin on his face. The English teacher rolled her eyes and nodded towards an empty seat in the back.

 

It wasn’t the most boring class, Dean reserved that judgement for his History course, but he found his mind wandering as his teacher read through the syllabus for the semester. The first day of classes was always the same.

 

Dean looked up as there was a quiet knock on the classroom door. A grin spread across his face as his eyes made contact with the dark blue eyes of the kid he’d nearly killed the previous day. The other kid lifted his hand in a small wave as the teacher looked at a note he’d handed her.

 

“Take any empty seat,” she said absently, tucking the note into her desk.

 

The boy put his bag down beside Dean, sliding into his chair with a sigh.

 

“Registration?” Dean asked quietly.

 

“It was...a hassle,” the boy replied as he pulled out a notebook and pencil, setting them gently on his desk. “It is nice to see a familiar face though, Dean,” the boy said with a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 

_Shit. He remembered my name_ , Dean thought to himself. “Sorry, man, what’s your name again?” He asked sheepishly.

 

“Castiel.”

 

“Got it. Castiel.” Dean paused for a moment, “Can I call you Cas?”

 

Castiel looked slightly surprised but nodded, “Sure, that would be fine.”

 

Dean grinned and tapped the pen he’d grabbed from his bag  against the side of his chair a few times. It wasn’t that  he didn’t have _any_ friends, he just didn’t have a lot of time for his friends . Most of them were involved in teams or clubs at school, and it wasn’t like Dean could invite anyone over to his house. But maybe things could change.

 

The bell rang and Dean stuffed his syllabus inside his empty backpack, tossing his pen in after it. The teacher yelled out a reminder about the chapter reading assigned for homework, and Dean tried to make a mental note to do it. He had never failed a class, and it didn't even matter that much since he had no plans to attend college, but the constant Cs were kinda starting to make him feel like crap...If this school year was going to be different, he figured he’d start the changes here , and maybe try making a new friend too.

 

He pulled his class schedule from his pocket and unfolded it, looking at the next class. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Cas doing the same thing.

 

“What do you have next?”

 

“Art,” Cas said with a shrug. “Not my first choice, but it was the only thing open still.”

 

“I’ve got shop which is right by it. I’ll show you where it is,” Dean said as they stepped out of the classroom together. Dean realized he hadn’t stopped by his locker yet and wasn’t even sure where it was. “Unless you gotta go to your locker or something?”

 

Cas shook his head no. “I can figure that out later.”

 

“Sweet,” Dean said as he motioned for Cas to walk with him. “We’re a small school but the classes can be pretty spread out. At least the electives like art, music, and shop are all grouped together.”

 

“That is helpful,” Cas said as he looked around, staring at the other students they passed.

 

“Looking for someone?” Dean asked curiously. He hadn’t even thought that maybe this kid already had some friends.

 

“No, sorry,” Cas said as he looked back towards Dean. “I don’t know anyone here.”

 

Dean smiled, slightly relieved. It was maybe a little bit selfish but Dean didn’t really care.

 

“Winchester,” a voice called out from ahead. A burly guy, who probably belonged more on a football field than a baseball diamond, hurtled towards Dean and wrapped one arm around his shoulders.

 

“How’s it goin’, Benny?”

 

“Not too bad. How’s about yourself? Heard you might be thinking of joining the team again.”

 

Dean laughed and shook his head. “I dunno, man. It’s been a while.”

 

Benny gripped his shoulder tighter and squeezed, “You know we need a good shortstop, still haven’t seen anyone able to make calls as quick as you could.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” he replied. “Oh, this is Cas by the way, he’s new.” He said, realizing he hadn’t introduced them.

 

Benny looked at him, sizing him up. “Nice to meet you,” he said. It wasn’t cold or gruff, but not inviting either. Dean looked at Benny and clapped him a few times on the shoulder. “I’ll let you know what I decide about tryouts.” Dean watched for a moment as Benny sauntered down the hallway, high-fiving a few guys on his way. He remembered what that was like, the sense of community and belonging, however briefly he had had it.

 

“I don’t think your friend likes me,” Cas said bluntly once they were a few yards away.

 

“Naw, he’s just weird around new people. He’ll warm up to you,” Dean said with a shrug. He wasn’t sure what Benny’s deal was.

 

They stopped outside the art classroom and Dean cocked his head towards the door. “Here’s your stop, paint all the colors of the wind and all that nonsense,” he said with a laugh.

 

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas said, clearly not understanding the joke. He pulled out his schedule once more and looked expectantly at Dean. “Should we compare schedules to see if we have any other classes together?”

 

“Good idea.”

 

Dean pulled his out and stepped closer to Cas, so that their shoulders were nearly touching. His eyes scanned their schedules and he was happy to note that they had another class together after lunch.

 

“Looks like we have Biology together,” Cas said as he looked up. For a moment their eyes met, and Dean realized how strange and almost exciting it felt to be gazed at so intently. He hadn’t met anyone before who had such a piercing stare. It wasn’t just that Cas had amazing blue eyes, it was that they were deep and soulful, unlike any that Dean had seen before. Dean’s voice caught in his throat for a minute, as he realized they had been staring at one another for far too long with no reason.

 

He cleared his throat and stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll catch ya at lunch, okay?”

 

Dean turned around without waiting for a response, slightly unnerved by the moment. He flung open the door to his classroom, his pulse slightly elevated, which only worried him more.

 

*********

 

Castiel looked around the crowded cafeteria with his tray in one hand and a camera bag in the other. He wasn’t sure where to sit, or if he should stand and wait until he saw Dean. Each table seemed to be full of people who knew each other. Perhaps the brief mention of lunchtime had been a polite offer and Dean had already gone to sit with his own friends.

 

As he looked around once more, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and found himself once again standing awkwardly close to Dean Winchester.

 

“Found you, finally,” Dean said with a grin.

 

Castiel let out a sigh of relief. “How were your other two classes, Dean?”

 

“Fine. Shop is cool, I’m pretty good with my hands,” he said with a shrug, “and Algebra just gives me time to catch up on some sleep.”

 

Castiel grinned but he was pretty sure that Dean was being honest about the sleeping through Algebra part. He followed Dean towards the back of the cafeteria and stopped as Dean pressed on the bar against the door.

 

“Are we allowed to eat outside?”

 

Dean held open the door, showing Cas that no alarm would sound. “I don’t think so, but we’re fine if we don’t get caught.”

 

Cas looked behind him, his eyes scanning the crowd for the face he’d come here to see. He’d come all this way and still hadn’t seen one glimpse of his father. He felt panicked for a moment, hoping he hadn’t somehow messed up the year.

 

“It is 2015, right?” He asked, looking at Dean seriously.

 

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked back. “Yeah, man, it is. Why do you ask?”

 

Castiel sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, ignore me. No reason.”

 

“We good to eat outside?” Dean asked cautiously, as Castiel still hadn’t followed him.

 

“Yes,” Cas said with a final look over his shoulder.

 

He followed Dean until they sat on the benches by the baseball diamond. Dean set his own brown bag down and opened it, making a face at his food. Castiel looked down at his own tray, which contained a BLT, an apple, and a bag of chips. Perhaps it was still customary to offer a trade of lunches. He held his towards Dean.

 

Dean looked up and laughed. “No way, Cas. I wouldn’t subject you to my shitty lunch.” He pulled out a soggy sandwich and dropped it back inside.

 

Castiel wanted to ask why Dean didn’t just buy a lunch, or why he’d brought one with so little sustenance in it, but he kept quiet. He suspected it might be the same reason Dean wasn’t eating with other friends. Cas took a bite of his own sandwich and opened his bag of chips, offering some to Dean anyway.

 

Dean took a few chips and set aside his own bagged lunch. “What’s with that fancy camera you’re suddenly sporting?”

 

Castiel looked down at the bag on the bench beside him. “It’s for art class. We were allowed to pick a focus. I picked photography.”

 

Dean nodded his approval. “That’s a pretty smart choice.”  
  
“I thought so,” Castiel said with a shrug.

 

Castiel took another bite of his sandwich and gazed at the baseball field. He’d never seen a real game in his life, in fact, he knew very little about it. He had a million questions, and while part of him suspected that Dean would be happy to answer them, he felt like he’d already exposed too much of himself. He’d be gone soon, and it was probably easier not to get attached. It was a reminder he had to keep making to himself throughout the day.

 

 


	4. Lost and Found

Castiel looked down at the notebook in front of him, where neat lines of notes littered the page. Not all of it was schoolwork, some were notes from his classes, but a lot of it was just things he’d noticed or found interesting. It was in the way the school system seemed so flexible, so unstructured compared to what he was used to. It was also in the way the other students seemed to group in herds. Perhaps it was human nature, because that aspect of high school certainly hadn’t changed.

 

It was his last class of the day and he was happy that he shared it with Dean. It was a rudimentary science class, which surprised him for being a senior level course. It involved an overview of all the sciences, which was perhaps the real problem in the design. Castiel figured he wouldn’t need to work too hard. He looked to his left at Dean, who happened to be drawing with a pencil on the smooth black countertop. Dean looked up at him and his cheeks reddened slightly as he began to erase his doodle.

 

Castiel turned his eyes towards the front of the class again as the teacher began to hand out goggles to be passed around. He took his from a girl in front of him with bright red hair. She gave him a wide smile and leaned over the table.

 

“Well you must be new. What’s your name?” She whispered, looking over her shoulder back at the teacher, who was still preoccupied with distributing materials.

 

“I’m Castiel,” he replied with a small grin.

 

“Charlie Bradbury,” she said as she turned to look at Dean, throwing her pen at his head. “Sucks you got stuck with Winchester here as your partner.”

 

Castiel looked surprised for a moment but relaxed as she winked at him. Dean was grinning and threw the pencil back at the girl the moment she turned back around towards the front.

 

Dean leaned closer to Castiel, their forearms nearly touching on the top of the shared desk. “Charlie’s a really good friend of mine, you’ll like her.”

 

“Like Benny?” He asked jokingly, raising one eyebrow slightly.

 

Dean shook his head and chuckled to himself. “You’re real funny, Cas.”

 

Castiel grinned as he turned his head back towards the front of the room. A small warm feeling grew in the center of his chest and he wasn’t sure what to do with it, and it wasn’t hard to figure out where it came from but it didn’t make things any less complicated. He put a hand in the pocket of his jacket and closed his fingers tightly around the small familiar orb.

 

The bell rang before Castiel could give it any more thought, and he scooped his new backpack up, throwing it over his shoulder quickly. Part of him knew how dangerous it was to get close to anyone, and that he should leave without waiting for Dean. He made the mistake of looking back at his new friend as he zipped up his bag, and knew he couldn’t do that as soon as Dean flashed him a smirky grin.

 

“Castiel Novak?”

 

Castiel turned around and sighed, setting down his backpack as the teacher beckoned him forward. She was young, in her thirties probably, with red hair and large green eyes. Something about her was slightly familiar but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

 

“You’re new here this year, correct?”

 

“Yes,” he answered with a nod.

 

“I wanted to check how your first day was...and that you will be able to handle the work of this class. I didn’t see a transcript in your file?” She said, trailing off purposefully.

 

Castiel shrugged, “Must have been lost, it was faxed over.”

 

She shook her head, “Anyway, just let me know if you’re struggling with anything here.”

 

“Thank you, I don’t think it will be a problem though.” He replied with a small smirk. The material was what he’d learned in grade school, he didn’t think there’d be any problem in the class. He looked over at Dean who was waiting for him by the door.

 

“Castiel, make sure you don’t copy the work ethic of your lab partner,” she said in a warning tone.

 

He nodded, slightly annoyed at her insinuation even though by all accounts she was most likely right about Dean’s attitude from school--at least from what he’d seen already.

 

“Thanks, Mrs. Clarke,” he said, trying not to appear as cocky as he was sure he’d sounded. “I’ll let you know if I need any help.” He looked back over his shoulder at Dean who impatiently rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner.

 

Castiel jogged towards his desk, grabbing his backpack from the stool as Dean held the door open for him, waiting patiently. The corner of the desk snagged on his jacket as he walked past, pulling him back slightly, surprising him. Castiel let out an exaggerated huff as he attempted to gain his composure again quickly. He pulled the open flap towards him with annoyance and flung his other arm through the backpack strap, his face flushing as he realized how stupid he must have just looked. He looked over at Dean and expected to see an empty doorway or a pitiful glance, but Dean had the same patient grin on his face. It almost made Cas feel even more like a nerd; a feeling he was somewhat accustomed to back at his own high school.

 

“Sorry for making you wait,” he said, falling into step beside Dean, giving him a falsely confident grin. Maybe Dean hadn’t even noticed how he’d nearly been taken down by a damn desk.

 

“No worries, man. I don’t have work or anything today so I’ve got some time.”

 

“You work?” Castiel was mildly surprised.

 

Dean looked down at the floor sheepishly, “Yup, at an auto shop. It’s good work and good pay.”

 

Castiel tried to keep from smiling. Somehow his new friend kept surprising him, everytime he thought he had him figured out. He looked over at Dean again who was shuffling his shoes along the floor.

 

“Is that why you can’t play baseball?” There he went with the questions, despite his own best attempts.

 

“One of the reasons,” Dean said with a shrug. He glanced over at Cas, his brow creasing slightly.  The scrutinizing gaze made Cas flush with embarrassment.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Forget something?” Dean asked breaking into a sly smile.

 

Castiel looked down at himself and back at Dean, cocking his head to the side. “I’m confused.”

 

“I’ll be right back,” Dean said as he handed his backpack over to Castiel, “You forgot your fancy new camera.”

 

Castiel leaned backwards as he realized and raised a hand to the top of his head, “Shit,” he said sheepishly as he watched Dean jog down the hallway.

 

“Be right back,” Dean yelled from down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you getting lost on your first day,” he said with a laugh.

 

Castiel had to suspect that Dean’s offer to go back for the camera  had more to do with evading the personal questions and less about his concern for Castiel’s sense of direction. Which Castiel happened to think was fairly decent at, considering he’d navigated his way a 100 years into the past.

 

*********

 

Dean slowed down outside the classroom, his heart racing slightly. He figured it was partly from being out of shape and partly from the way he’d felt around Cas. It had been a long time since he’d let down his defenses around someone, let alone someone he’d _just_ met.

 

He swung open the door and looked around the dark room. He was surprised Mrs. Clarke wasn’t still around, they’d only been gone about five minutes, but the stools were already stacked on the desks in neat rows. He stepped towards the desk, hoping Cas’ bag would still be tucked neatly below the table.

 

As he put one foot down on the ground, he was quickly thrown off balance by something round beneath his foot. His leg swung out from beneath him, and he slipped to the ground in an ungraceful pile of long limbs. “ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered as he watched a small gold golf ball roll towards him. He grabbed it as he stood up and shoved it angrily into his pocket. His fingers tingled from his elbow down from where he’d smacked it into the cold linoleum floor and his hip ached.

 

He bent down to look under the table and sure enough, the black bag was still safely tucked away. He grabbed it and flung the strap over his shoulder as he stormed out of the room, gritting his teeth at the pain radiating down his arm. He was just glad no one had seen that embarrassing spectacle.

 

Dean took his time finding Cas again and held it out with a huff as soon as he saw him around the hallway. “I almost died for this thing,” he said gruffly.

 

“Are you okay? What happened?” Cas asked, his face serious.

 

Dean couldn’t help but be amused, despite how annoyed he wanted to feel. “Nothing, don’t worry about it, man. Just bumped my elbow,” he said, stretching it out a few times and wiggling his fingers.

 

Cas nodded as he secured the bag across his chest, “Well, thank you for getting it for me, Dean.”

 

Dean ran a hand through his hair and grinned, “No problem.”

 

They walked outside towards the parking lot, a comfortable silence between them. Dean appreciated that Cas didn’t bring up any more questions he wasn’t ready to answer. It wasn’t a big secret for anyone who’d grown up in Lawrence. The Winchesters were a mess, well, except for Sam. Their mom had died, and John became the town drunk who was barely able to keep a roof over their heads. Most of the time Dean hated the pity the came with it, even when they needed to rely on it to get help. It just wasn’t easy. He wanted the normalcy to last for just a little while with Cas. At least before he realized that hanging out with Dean was beneath him and that Dean really wasn’t great at relationships anyway. Dean shook his head, _friendship. Not relationship_.

 

Dean spotted Sam ahead, leaning against the passenger side of the car. His backpack was bulging and he was already flipping through a book when Dean walked up.

 

“Did you need a ride home, Cas?” He asked, remembering he hadn’t bothered to ask how Cas planned to get home.

 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Cas said with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Dean lifted a hand to wave once as Cas walked towards the lot around the corner of the school. He looked back towards his brother and grinned, ruffling Sam’s hair slightly.

 

“We never got you that back to school haircut, kid,” Dean said with a smirk.

 

“I like it long,” Sam replied, picking up his heavy backpack.

 

“How’d today go?” Dean asked he stepped around to the driver’s side. He slid into the impala and reached over, unlocking the passenger door for his brother. Sam plopped down, letting his backpack slam onto the floor by his feet.

 

“It was good, I like my classes and the teachers for the most part,” Sam replied as he rolled his window down. Dean followed suit as he started the engine, wishing the AC worked a little better. It was next on his list of repairs.

 

“Meet any girls?” Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows at his brother.

 

“Right, Dean. For _some_ of us, school doesn’t revolve around picking up girls and goofing off,” he said with a laugh.

 

“That’ll change,” Dean said as he grinned to himself. He looked back over at his brother and noticed his small smile  as he let the wind hit his face. He had to admit, his brother looked pretty damn happy. That was all Dean needed. Plus, he supposed his own day hadn’t been too bad either.

 

 


	5. Chuck

Castiel had been in school for a week and despite his best attempts, he had yet to see his father once. Castiel sighed as he swung his backpack around one shoulder and closed his door behind him, the early morning sun hitting his pupils just enough to make him squint as he pulled his other arm through his backpack strap. It was Monday, which was never easy, but he hoped his second week would prove more fruitful. His time hadn’t been entirely unenjoyable though, with his classes being easy enough to drift through. It helped that he had Dean. Castiel didn’t want to focus much on the implications of those feelings, but he’d completely failed at staying away from Dean, so there was not much else he could do.

 

He jogged towards the corner of the street, leaning against the bus stop bench post as he checked his phone. There wasn’t much need to urgently look at his phone considering he only had one number saved, but it was a nervous habit. The bus rolled up as Castiel read through the text messages Dean had sent him last night. Somehow help with algebra had turned into Dean telling Castiel the finer points of baseball and promising to take him to a game sometime after Dean learned that Castiel had never seen one. Castiel’s cheeks warmed as he read over the conversation and remembered how diligently he’d researched major league teams in order to understand what Dean was talking about.

 

As Castiel sat down on the bus, he stuffed his phone back into his pocket and placed his bag on his lap, leaving space beside him for others to sit. City transportation wasn’t as awful as he’d expected it to be. Without a real home address, taking the school bus would have been a problem, especially since he wasn’t in a residential neighborhood. His bus pass was easy enough and it stopped only a block away from school anyway. Cas tucked his bus pass into his pocket and looked up across from him at the passenger on the other bench. His breath caught in his throat. The bus stopped suddenly and Castiel’s bag slipped onto the floor, directly in front of another student his age, who grabbed it with a small smile.

 

“These buses, right, man?”

 

Castiel nodded as he stood up to grab his backpack. There was no mistaking him though he’d been only nine years old the last time he’d seen the man.. He’d traveled all this way to get some answers about his father, and here he was, riding the same bus as him, after all of Castiel’s searching. He opened his mouth to respond and quickly shut it, all words escaping him. He had to be careful what he said, he knew that was above everything else. Castiel sat back down and feigned a normal grin.

 

“Still not quite used to taking the bus,” he lied.

 

The other boy nodded and indicated how he kept his bag tucked tightly on the floor between his feet. “All about leverage,” he said.

 

Castiel followed suit, placing his bag on the ground and a foot on either side. This boy was so unlike the man he’d known growing up, or well, _hadn’t_ known.

 

“You go to Lawrence High?”

 

“I do, I’m new there,” Castiel replied, attempting to sound nonchalant. “I’m Castiel.”

 

“Castiel,” his father said slowly, “that’s a really cool name.”

 

“I don’t have any complaints,” Castiel replied, bemused at the situation.

 

“I’m Chuck,” his father said. “Bus-rider extraordinaire.”

 

Castiel couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked at Chuck and tried to reconcile the nerdy teenager with the imposing and successful man he’d known as a child. He had small signs of stubble along his chin, not unlike Castiel, and similar brown hair although with more of a curl to it. The similarities seemed to end there, Castiel noticed as they stood up once the bus rolled up to the school. Castiel towered a good 5 inches above his father, which really threw him for a loop. Chuck was all awkward limbs, short stature, and slightly twitchy. Cas knew he was staring but he couldn’t help it.

 

“Let me know if you need any help getting acquainted here,” Chuck said as they stepped off the bus.

 

“I haven’t seen you on the bus before…” Castiel replied tentatively.

 

Chuck laughed, a slightly nasally sound under his breath. “I missed a week because I was at camp, but it was well worth it.”

 

Castiel nodded slowly, understanding the insinuation that school wasn’t much of a challenge for Chuck, it must run in the family.

 

“It was nice meeting you, Castiel,” Chuck said as he picked up his pace towards the school.

 

Castiel waved back and stopped in his tracks, catching his breath slowly. He’d imagined them meeting hundreds of times. When he was ten he’d imagined his father returning home, leaving the door to his study open just a crack so that Castiel could peek inside to watch him work. When he was thirteen he imagined he’d walk out of school and see his father waiting to pick him up so he wouldn’t need to ride the train home. At sixteen he imagined randomly sitting next to his father at a coffee shop and punching him in the face for disappearing all those years. At seventeen, he hatched to plan to ensure he’d meet his father again.

 

Now that he was eighteen and attending high school with his father, he had imagined their meeting in a million different ways. Perhaps in a class, or sharing nearby lockers, maybe even spotting him in the cafeteria and slowly planning out his next move. But it had happened all at once, too slowly and too quickly. They’d talked; Castiel had actually told him his name and acted as if he were completely normal. It winded him slightly just thinking about it. He’d traveled all this way to meet his father, and it had actually worked. Castiel sat down on the grass lawn and tipped his head back towards the sky, closing his eyes.

 

A hand clasped around Castiel’s shoulder and he felt pressure on it as Dean heaved himself down on the ground next to him.

 

“Enjoying the sky today instead of class?” Dean asked teasingly.

 

“Something like that,” Castiel replied, closing his eyes again and tilting his chin upwards towards the sky.

 

“It’s a perfect day,” Dean replied, lying back against the grass.

 

“I won’t argue that,” Castiel agreed.

 

“I’m going to train a bit today after school,” Dean said quietly.

 

Castiel looked over at him, squinting his eyes in the sun. Dean kept staring straight ahead at the sky, so he figured Dean didn’t need a response. Maybe it was just something he had to say out loud. Castiel nodded briefly and looked back at the sky before standing up and offering a hand to Dean.

 

“Class?”

 

“If you say so,” Dean said with a shrug.

 

*********

 

Castiel helped set down the odd machine at the pitcher’s mound, stabilizing it as Dean ran the cord inside the dugout. Somehow Dean had managed to get sole access to the pitching machine for the afternoon and a bag full of baseballs.

 

“Just stick around for the first few pitches and then you can head into the dugout,” Dean said he stepped towards the plate.

 

Castiel nodded, turning the machine on which whirred to life.

 

Dean placed a helmet on and grabbed a bat, swinging it a few times. “Oh, and don’t get hit,” he said as an afterthought while he lined up to the plate.

 

Castiel rolled his eyes as he pressed a button that allowed the machine to begin pitching. With a loud thump, a ball was pitched at 70 miles an hour towards Dean, who hit it clear across the third base line. The next one came quickly, before Castiel had looked back toward Dean, and he squeezed  his eyes shut tight as it  flew right over his head.

 

“I told you, don’t get hit!” Dean called out as he readjusted his helmet and stepped back up to the plate for the next ball.

 

Castiel realized the warning wasn’t a tease. He jogged towards the dugout, confident that the pitching machine was working effectively as it pumped out a new ball every 45 seconds.

 

He watched mesmerized as Dean’s metal bat connected with the ball each time, his whole body twisting in one fluid motion. It was natural, as if he’d been born to do it. The sun glinted off the top of the black helmet and the tip of the bat as Dean brought it to rest above his shoulder between pitches. It was art, Castiel realized.

 

As the machine threw another ball, Castiel ran to grab his camera bag on the bench behind him. He flipped the lens off into the bag and stood on the dugout steps, capturing every swing Dean made. Each movement was graceful, with the gentle twist of his ankle as the bat swung around his shoulders. Castiel had never been one for sports, but he was enthralled.

 

After a few more minutes, the pitching machine was out of balls, and Dean jogged over to shut it off, sweat glimmering around his temples as he pulled off his helmet. Castiel joined him, his camera swinging around his neck.

 

“I see you found something to do,” Dean said with a nod towards the camera. “Hope I made a good model,” he said grinning.

 

“Mediocre, at best,” Castiel replied as he tried not to watch as Dean lifted the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face.

 

“You want to give it a try?” Dean held out the bat towards Castiel.

 

“Maybe next time,” Castiel replied honestly. He couldn’t help but hope there _would_ be a next time.

 

*********

 

Dean sat in his car outside of his house as the last few notes of “Rock and Roll” faded out through the speakers. He flipped his key and pulled it out of the ignition, twirling it a few times around his finger. He felt good, already sore, and he knew he stunk from all the sweat but it didn’t do anything to erase the grin on his face. He pushed open the front door, unsurprised to find it unlocked.

 

As he suspected, his father was on the couch with his head back against the sofa and snoring loudly. He pulled out his phone and pulled up Bobby’s number. It wasn’t the first time he’d come home to see beer cans littering the living room and known that his dad hasn’t managed to make it to work. He took the stairs two at a time as he pressed the green call button on his phone.

 

After a few rings, a gruff but familiar voice answered, “Singer’s Auto.”

 

“Hey Bobby, it’s Dean.”

 

“Calling about your daddy I suppose?”

 

“Do I need to ask?” Dean said with a huff.

 

“Sorry son, third time in the last two weeks he hasn’t shown up.”

 

Dean sighed and sat down on his bed, kicking off his shoes. He’d hoped he wouldn’t need to pick up as many extra shifts and could actually be a normal student for once. They needed the money, Dean reminded himself.

 

“Do you need me to come in tomorrow?”

 

Bobby sighed and Dean knew he was taking his hat off and putting it back on over and over. “You know I’d never expect you to cover his shifts, Dean.”

 

“If he’s not there, he’s not getting paid,” Dean said quickly. “I’ll be in after school tomorrow.”

 

Bobby mumbled in agreement and Dean hung up before he had a chance to change his mind. He stood up by his dresser and picked up the golden orb he’d found the week before, rolling it around in the palm of his hand. He wasn’t sure what it was but he hadn’t been able to stop messing with it ever since he’d found it. He sat back on his bed with his back against the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest as he held the ball up towards the light, squinting at it curiously.

 

*********

 

Castiel dropped his backpack onto the ground and pulled his camera towards him as he sat on the couch. He flicked it on and looked at the first few photos, basic ones of flowers and bees, a few of the school building and lockers, with random photos of Dean strewn throughout. He flipped the dial once more and took a deep breath as he realized how stunning the baseball photos were from the day. He wasn’t an artist by any means, but Dean looked perfect in every single one. He put the camera down quickly and stood up, pushing back on the feelings that he wasn’t supposed to have. It only made things harder.

 

He’d finally met his father and was one step closer to having to leave, which was suddenly turning into a very depressing thought. Castiel unbuttoned the top of his white linen shirt and grabbed the tan jacket that he’d last worn on the first day of school. He’d tossed it haphazardly onto the back of a kitchen chair. He dug one hand inside the left pocket and pulled out his small golden orb, flipping it open to view the number “one” blinking. He reached into the other pocket and grasped inside, his fingers feeling around the empty space.

 

Castiel pulled the jacket from the chair urgently and began digging his hands through every pocket furiously. Each time he came up empty. _Shit_. He sank towards the floor as helplessness flooded through him. _Keep it together_ , he told himself, _you need to solve this_.

 

He shoved the coat to the side and stood up quickly, making his way towards his bedroom. He didn’t have much stuff, just a bag full of clothing. He figured it had to be here; there was no way he could have lost it, and why would anyone else have taken it?. He dumped out his bag of clothing, digging through it and checking each pocket quickly, his heart racing in his chest.

 

Castiel heard a small beep from his phone in the living room and sighed. He knew it had to be Dean, and all Castiel wanted was to be able to go to him and tell him what was wrong. He ran his hands down his face and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he sat on the floor of his bedroom surrounded by clothing.

 

The most important rule of time-travel was to save enough juice for the trip home. Castiel knew this and yet here he was. His main device was gone, and he’d be relying on an old model to get him home.It terrified him as he thought about all the things that could go wrong. His stomach heaved and he stood up to retrieve his phone, hoping he could just talk to Dean without giving him all the details.

 

He flipped open his phone and his heart sank even more as he read a text from Dean.

 

_-Dean W-_

_I have to work tomorrow. Don’t think I’m doing baseball anymore._

 

Castiel threw himself back onto the couch and closed his eyes. The day had started out so well, yet here he was, on the brink of despair as he held up his one orb that blinked the obnoxious number one at him. He snapped it shut angrily and placed it on the coffee table before he could succumb to the urge to throw it against the wall.

 

 


	6. Twenty-Nine

Dean wiped a line of sweat away from his forehead, leaving a large grease mark in its place as he slid out from beneath the hood of a 2006 Toyota Camry. He’d fixed a cut fuel line and done quick work of it, hoping to shave an hour off of his day. He’d nearly forgotten what a full day of school plus an afternoon of work meant. His stomach rumbled in protest as he dropped the hood of the car shut.

 

He flipped open his phone and quickly read a text from Sam about dinner, but nothing from anyone else. Castiel had been silent all day, and it hadn’t helped Dean’s mood one bit.

 

“Checking for messages from girls, eh?”

 

Dean looked up and shook his head at Bobby, who had come out of the office at just the wrong moment.

 

“Swear I’m not just texting on the job,” Dean said as he held up his hands in apology.

 

Bobby swat at him with a rag from his pocket. “Kids these days, why do I keep you around here?” He asked jokingly.

 

Dean tried to smile but found it hard, and it wasn’t like he had to hide his disappointment from Bobby, the man had practically raised him. At least as much as any non-family member could do legally.

 

“Ready to cut out a little early tonight? I’m sure you’ve got homework to get to,” Bobby suggested.

 

“That would be great, thanks.” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck as he looked down at his feet. “I appreciate that,” he said.

 

Bobby strode past Dean and clapped a hand on his shoulder briefly before heading towards the garage. “I made too much food tonight. There’s a bowl out on the counter for you, or it’s goin’ to waste,” he called out, then disappeared into the garage.

 

Dean tried to suppress the small smile on his face. It was a little past five and he knew Sam had eaten at a friend’s house, which meant his father was probably still at the bar. Bobby always happened to make just a little bit too much food when Dean was working, and Dean certainly couldn’t complain about that. He set the bowl down carefully on the passenger seat of the impala as he drove home.

 

Dean pulled into the gravel driveway and flicked off his engine, briefly glancing towards the empty spot beside him in the driveway. Sure enough, his dad wasn’t home. It came in bursts, the drinking and disappearing. It was always worse this time of year, especially as the anniversary of his mom’s death loomed nearer. Dean sighed and trod  over the dead grass as he stifled a yawn. The house was quiet but a light upstairs told him Sam was home.

 

“Sammy!” he called out, setting his bowl in the microwave and punching in the number two. He waited for a response before he shrugged his shoulders. _Damn kid must have his headphones on_. The timer on the microwave beeped and Dean grabbed the last clean fork from the drawer. The house was a mess again. Balancing the bowl in one head with a rag beneath it, he headed upstairs, peering into his brother’s room.

 

Sam’s head was down as he highlighted a page in his book and scribbled a few words in the notebook next to him on the bed. Sure enough, Dean noticed the thin white cords dangling from his ears as Sam’s head bobbed slightly to the music that was loud enough for Dean to hear across the room. Dean flicked the light switch twice.

 

“I was looking for my headphones,” Dean said with a grin. He knew Sam had lost his a few weeks into summer, but Dean rarely used his anyways.

 

Sam pulled out both earbuds. “What?”

 

“Nevermind.” Dean said as he stirred the food in his bowl; a mix of potatoes, carrots, and potroast. He leaned against the doorway as he took a few bites. “How was school today?”

 

“The usual,” Sam replied. He stood up and stretched, his long hair falling in front of his eyes. “Got a field trip coming up,” he said with a shrug as he dug through his backpack on his desk. Once he’d found what he was looking for, he unfolded it and handed it to Dean.

 

“I hate permission slips,” Dean said callously. “Give me a pen.”

 

Dean set his food down on the corner of Sam’s desk and set the paper down, signing the same signature he’d been signing for years for their father. He clicked the pen top and handed it back to Sam along with the slip of paper.

 

“Where you guys going?”

 

“A nature preserve a few hours away,” Sam said sheepishly. “It’s for this ecology club thing.”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes slightly as his brother. “I didn’t know you were into like, plants and shit.”

 

“I’m not, I mean, they’re okay and all. Nature’s cool,” Sam said stuttering slightly.

 

Dean laughed as he noticed the slight blush creep across his brother’s cheeks.

 

“Have fun with that, Sammy.” Dean said with a laugh. He’d joined astronomy club freshman year for that same reason. Thankfully it hadn’t lasted. Dean closed the door behind him as he stepped into his own bedroom, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit him.

 

Working all summer had been one thing but getting back into the routine of work and school was a completely different monster. He’d hoped to get home in time to go running, but he could barely finish his dinner before he collapsed onto the bed.

 

*********

 

Dean’s alarm went off and he rolled over, groaning as he grabbed his phone to shut it off. It was only six but he’d thought he could get an early start and find time to run like one of those people whose lives were really put together. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. As usual, he’d fallen asleep in his clothing from the previous day, a stunning precedent he’d managed to set for himself.

 

There was a light knock on his door before his brother opened it and looked inside with a smile. “You’re up early,” he said, looking surprised. Dean tossed his dirty shirt off from the previous day and picked up a white t-shirt, throwing it on quickly.

 

“Wanted to go for a run,” he replied gruffly. He _really_ wasn’t a morning person.

 

“That’s what I’m doing,” Sam said as he stretched in Dean’s doorway. Dean looked over and rolled his eyes. His brother was wearing _his_ gym shoes again and as much as he wanted to be annoyed, he knew it was because his brother was growing faster than they could afford to buy him new shoes.

 

Dean glanced around his room for an older pair of shoes to wear as he threw on some black shorts. “You up this early every day?” Dean asked over his shoulder.

 

“Mhm,” Sam answered absently, as he typed on his phone.

 

Dean stood up after tying his shoes. The heels were worn off almost beyond recognition but they’d work. He tousled his brother’s hair as he stepped around him to sprint towards the front door. Sam was quick on his heels as they pounded down the stairs, ignoring the irate yell that came from the downstairs bedroom where their father was most likely sleeping off another hangover.

 

The air was slightly cooler outside and the sun was just rising. Sam closed the door behind him and stopped in front of Dean, who still had to stretch a little bit. Dean looked over at his brother, who seemed to be getting taller every day. He still wasn’t Dean’s height but he soon would be. He had the long awkward limbs of every freshman boy, but he’d grow into them.

 

“You gonna tie your shoes?” Dean asked, noting that Sam’s shoes were _always_ untied.

 

“They never stay tied, man,” Sam complained. Dean had a feeling it had to do with the shoes barely fitting his feet, but he wouldn’t say that.

 

“You just can’t tie a knot,” Dean said, laughing as Sam give him an unamused glare. Dean shoved at his brother as he nodded towards the road.

 

They’d only gone about a mile and Dean could feel himself tiring, a small cramp in his side. His brother jogged ahead of him easily, clearly having spent his summer running and eating salads instead of burgers. Dean slowed to a walk and waved his brother on ahead of him. He hadn’t been on a run in a while and he could feel it. His lungs burned and his face felt hot and flushed. It almost embarrassed him how much trouble he’d had; _almost_.

 

After a few minutes, Sam came jogging back towards him up the small pavement hill.

 

“Done already?” Dean asked, surprised.

 

“Figured I’d walk back with you,” Sam said with a small smile.

 

Dean nodded as he placed a hand on his side where he had a cramp. “Remind me why I’m up again at this hour.”

 

“Training for baseball?” Sam asked tentatively.

 

Dean looked down at his feet. He wasn’t really sure why he’d woken up to go running. It certainly wasn’t an inherently enjoyable pastime for him, but part of him knew there was no way he’d have the time for baseball this year. Again. It just seemed a little bit harder to let go of.

 

“I doubt it, but we’ll see,” Dean responded finally, giving his brother what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

 

“I think you should,” Sam said quietly, gazing at Dean from underneath his mess of damp hair. “You never do anything for yourself.”

 

Dean laughed and shook his head. “I dunno about that.”

 

“I ran into Charlie the other day, she said you made friends with a new guy at school,” Sam said as he watched Dean carefully.

 

Dean groaned in annoyance. He wasn’t the most social person outside of hook-ups with girls and the two of them were always trying to make sure Dean wasn’t becoming too much of a loner. “Yeah, he just moved here, he’s a nice guy.”

 

It wasn’t hard to deduce that anyone new to town wouldn’t know of the Winchester history and their father’s reputation. The fire their mother had died in when they were children was one of the most well known town stories. Several firefighters had died as well, and it was all due to John falling asleep with the stove on. He wasn’t bad at the time, just a normal guy too tired from raising an infant and a four-year old. The spiral had happened after their mother died. Dean could barely remember her or what life was life before his dad had become a mess. John had become a town pariah, and it had just gotten worse from there.

 

They stopped as they came up to their worn-down house. Dean shook his head a few times, bringing himself out of the past. He knew his thoughts were written all over his face as Sammy give him a small smile. “I’m glad you have a friend this year, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, you’ll have to meet him sometime,” Dean replied honestly. He thought Cas and his brother would probably have a lot in common. Cas was freaky smart, and it seemed like he did it without any studying, which made Dean somewhat jealous.

 

Dean took the stairs two at a time as he realized it was nearly 7:30 and he still had to shower. He grabbed his phone and checked a few text messages, one from Charlie and two from Cas from the night before. He fired back a few responses, apologizing for passing out mid-conversation. He stopped and turned as he heard the shower turn on.

 

“Dibs on the shower,” Sam yelled out.

 

With at least 10 minutes to kill, Dean idly picked up the odd gold ball he’d found on the first day of school. He rolled it between his hands again, running a finger along an edge. A little knob suddenly popped outwards, and Dean held up to closer to his eyes to inspect. It hadn’t done anything like that before. He was a mechanic, well almost, and he’d always been interested in how things work, gadgets included. Dean gave a small test twist of the knob and found that it rotated easily. He turned it several more times until he felt a resistance, and let it lay cupped between his hands.

 

A moment later, the ball opened in half, revealing a holographic number thirty. Dean looked it but it seemed to do nothing else. With his left hand he turned the knob several more times again. As he watched the orb, he heard his normal school alarm go off on his phone. In annoyance, Dean picked up his phone and silenced it, wishing he had just a few more minutes of time to mess with this thing.

 

It was instantaneous, the second the thought crossed his mind, it was like he was transported. What looked like small fibers flew past him until one struck him straight in the chest. He doubled back, expecting to feel pain, but as he opened his eyes he realized he was still in his bedroom, just a few steps back from where he’d initially been standing.

 

Dean looked around, patting his torso with his hands checking for any damage. He looked around but everything seemed normal. The shower had stopped running, which meant he had only a few minutes to shower before leaving for school. Dean closed a fist around the small orb and stepped slowly around his room. Everything seemed normal. _What the hell was that?_

 

“Dibs on the shower,” Dean heard Sam call out.

 

Dean whipped his head around and sprung towards the door. Sam had _just_ showered. In fact, Sam had said those exact words only 5 minutes before. Dean grabbed his phone from his dresser and swiped at the screen to open it. It was 7:26am, and his school alarm was set for 7:35. Dean opened his text messages to see three waiting messages, one from Charlie and two from Cas. Both were unresponded to and unopened.

 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened, but it took a madman to believe it, or a scientist to understand it. Dean took a few steps backwards and sat on the edge of his bed, looking at the small object in his hand. It was closed again, a small unobtrusive gold ball, just like when he’d found it.

 

Dean ran his finger along the back of it again until the same knob popped back out. He twisted it a few times until the ball opened up again, but this time the number inside read 29. He shook his head in disbelief. He took a deep breath and gazed around his room. Did he really just time travel back in time, a few extra minutes?

 

A slow grin spread across his face as he realized what it could mean. Before he could daydream of the possibilities, his alarm went off again, followed by his brother yelling out that the shower was free. Dean placed the orb carefully inside his nightstand drawer as he rushed to jump into the shower. _Life is about to get a whole lot easier_ , he thought with a smirk.

 

 


	7. Endless Summer

Castiel sat down on the bleacher bench underneath the shade of a large oak tree. The summer sun beat down on the silver metal seats, warming them to an uncomfortable temperature. It was the time of the year when cicadas hummed lightly in the trees and the humid Kansas air hung heavy. Castiel opened his phone as he waited for Dean, watching the analog clock hands tick. He found those more enticing than the standard digital readings on phones.

 

He’d spent the last few days sulking about his dilemma and checking every classroom for his lost time traveling device. He’d finally admitted defeat and resolved himself to keeping his one last trip safe for the return home. It was the only thing he could do, even if it tied his stomach in knots to not have any more backup plans.

 

A few loud steps on the metal stairs alerted Cas to Dean’s presence, and he looked up and waved. Charlie, the red-haired girl from class was trailing behind him, along with another girl that Castiel did not know.

 

“I brought company,” Dean said with a grin. Contrary to his own, Dean’s mood had vastly improved over the past few days. Castiel assumed it coincided with the decision to join the baseball team.

 

Charlie waved as she walked carefully up the bleacher steps, holding the hand of the other girl who was attempting to sprint towards the top where Cas was sitting beneath the overhanging tree.

 

Dean slid into  the seat beside Cas, his hand momentarily brushing against Castiel’s. In the summer heat, it was easy to pass off the flush on both of their faces. Dean grabbed the brown-bag in Castiel’s lap and sorted through it, offering up his own soggy sandwich.

 

“No way,” Castiel said as usual, as the girls took the bench in front of them.

 

“You know Charlie already,” Dean said, “this is her girlfriend Dorothy.”

 

Dorothy reached out her hand and Castiel accepted it, returning her firm handshake. She was pretty, with dark wavy brown hair and blue eyes. With her bright red lipstick, she looked like she belonged on a “Rosie the the Riveter” advertisement from the 1940’s. He watched as Charlie draped a comfortable arm around Dorothy’s shoulder. Castiel wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not that Dean didn’t even bat an eyelash at their relationship.

 

“I hear you’re trying out for the baseball team,” Dorothy said with a smile as she looked at Dean.

 

“I’m not sure if that should be more shocking than the fact that you’re trying out for the team,” he replied back with a chuckle.

 

“You play baseball?” Castiel asked with surprise.

 

Dorothy grinned widely as she pulled out her phone to pull up a picture. “Sophomore year state champs in Montana” she said proudly, the background of her phone showing a team full of boys and Dorothy in the center.

 

“I’ll never get her to change that background,” Charlie said with a laugh. “For real though, she’s got a 95 mph fast-pitch softball and her baseball pitch is almost as good.”

 

Dorothy beamed proudly. Castiel watched them with eagerness. Everything he’d heard about 2015 was turning out to not be the whole truth. Girls playing baseball with boys and same-sex relationships. He looked around at the smiling faces around him as they chattered on about sports. He found himself continually amazed. He looked back at Dean and was surprised to catch Dean staring at him. They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Dean looked back down and coughed, pulling out his phone.

 

“You moved here from Montana?” Castiel asked Dorothy, pulling himself back towards the conversation.

 

“I moved in the middle of last year which was pretty rough,” she said with a shrug. “I’m sure you know how it is, and how hard it is to be the new kid.”

 

Charlie poked Dorothy in the ribs, “Hey, you had me from day one,” she said with a small chuckle. Dorothy nodded and rolled her eyes in agreement.

 

Castiel looked over and Dean and grinned. He knew to say how he felt would betray a lot more than he felt comfortable saying but he truly was grateful to have found Dean.

 

Dean looked up from his phone and squinted towards the sky as he leaned backwards against the bleachers above him. He was wearing a white baseball tee, with dark green sleeves that he’d rolled up past his elbows. The shirt was a bit tight around his torso, with the words “Lawrence Lions 2012” across the front. Castiel assumed it was from his freshman year of high school and tried to imagine Dean a few years earlier as an eager student joining the baseball team.

 

Dean looked at Castiel and winked before he shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Nothing like the end of summer, right, Cas?”

 

Although the humid air made it harder to breath and the occasional cicada falling on your head wasn’t exactly Castiel’s favorite thing, there was certainly a pleasant languid feeling to the long days of endless sun and the ensuing laziness it provided.

 

“Kansas summer is certainly a new experience for me,” he replied, following suit and laying against the back of the bleachers and folding his hands behind his head. Their elbows touched and Castiel felt the same small jolt of nervous excitement travel through him that he always got when they touched. It was worrisome but he was just too damn lazy to do anything about it now. Perhaps there were more than a few things he’d started to resign himself to.

 

*********

 

The end of the day came quickly after that and Castiel was surprised when Dean invited him over for dinner. One topic they’d skirted around a lot was the topic of family, for both of them. Cas knew that Dean had a younger brother that he was extremely protective of, and that Dean’s mother had passed away but that was the extent of it. He didn’t want to prod about Dean’s father, which he’d noticed was a very sore subject.

 

The left the biology room together and Castiel gave a small wave to the teacher, who had taken a particular interest in his learning despite him not needing help. They had a project to work on together, drawing and labeling 3 organs from the human body and doing it to scale. Castiel figured it would be easy enough, something he could have offered to do on his own considering Dean’s typical schedule, but Dean seemed eager to work on it together.

 

“We can order in pizza,” Dean said as they walked through the school parking lot. “Sam will be happy to finally meet you,” he said nonchalantly.

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve been talking about me?”

 

“Only telling him all the bad things,” Dean replied with a lascivious smile.

 

“So you haven’t had much to say then,” Castiel said with a nod.

 

Dean chuckled and looked away as a grin crept across his face. “Something like that.”

 

They hopped into the car and Castiel again took a moment to admire it. Dean turned on the engine and they both rolled down the windows as they waited for Dean’s brother Sam.

 

“Just so you know, uh, my dad won’t be there tonight,” Dean said quietly.

 

Castiel looked over at him, a puzzled look on his face. “You haven’t said much about him to me, but I gather you would prefer that?”

 

Dean nodded and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I wasn’t sure if, you know, anyone had told you anything about my family.” He paused for a moment before starting again. “My dad has a drinking problem, so it’s just better when he’s not around.”

 

That didn’t seem like such an outrageous secret and Castiel assumed there might be more to it than that, but he was glad that Dean had shared part of it finally. As much as he wanted to reciprocate, Castiel couldn’t open up that same way.

 

“I understand, Dean,” he said as he placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m excited to meet Sam by the way.”

 

“There he is now,” Dean said in a loud voice as his brother walked up, opening the back door and sliding in. Dean’s demeanor changed instantly, a defense mechanism Castiel supposed, as Dean began to poke fun at his brother.

 

“Sam, this Cas.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” they said and unison and both laughed awkwardly.

 

Dean took that as his cue to start driving away while pushing in a tape that said “Led Zeppelin II”.

 

“You know this song?” Dean asked as they pulled onto a short strip of open road.

 

Castiel shook his head. He wasn’t the most culture-savvy person even in 2115 so in 2015, the music was completely lost on him.

 

“Castiel, how are you Dean’s friend without worshipping at the altar of Zeppelin?” Sam asked from the back jokingly.

 

Sam’s statement made no sense to him and he looked at Dean, cocking his head to the side slightly in question.

 

“Led Zeppelin, man. My favorite band. This song’s called “Ramble On,” and it’s a classic.” Dean was happy to explain and turn the volume up slightly once more so that Cas could get the full music effect. He had to admit, it was enjoyable and had a very Dean-esque quality to it.

 

They’d listened to three songs by the time they pulled into a gravel driveway outside a worn-down looking house. No other cars were in the driveway and Castiel caught the shared glance of relief between the brother’s as they noticed. He had a feeling they didn’t often invite company over.

 

“Welcome to casa Winchester,” Dean said as he opened the front door, which had been unlocked.

 

Castiel followed Dean as he gave him a short tour of the house. One bedroom on the first floor with a bathroom, which he assumed belonged to Dean’s father. A quaint kitchen that had clearly just been cleaned and yellowing tile floors. The living area fared the same way, free of clutter but had the slightly stale smell of alcohol and beer stains around the couch. Castiel felt a tug at his heart as he watched the way Dean glazed over passing through the living area.

 

They eventually made their way upstairs, where Sam and Dean had their bedrooms separated by a small bathroom. Dean’s room was tidy, with a flannel blue and tan bedspread and old wooden furniture. There were a few posters on the wall, a stack of baseball cards on his dresser and an old photo leaning against a clock. Castiel stepped closer to look at it. Dean was about four and he assumed the baby in the photo was Sam. The right side had been bent backwards to hide the other person, who Cas assumed to be his father. The woman in the photo had bright eyes, with light blonde hair and a contagious smile. She looked like Dean in a way, but he somehow already seemed much older than her. Castiel knew why.

 

Dean stepped beside Cas and followed his eyes towards the picture.

 

“My mom was great,” Dean said quietly, “or well, what little I can remember anyway.”

 

Castiel tried to keep the frown from showing on his face. He’d never gotten along well with his mother. They shared the same piercing blue eyes and that was about it. She’d been distant with him for as long as he’d known and extremely strict. However, he couldn’t imagine losing her. He and Dean both seemed to be missing pieces from their childhood.

 

Sam stepped into the bedroom with a small coupon book in his hands. “Dean, this is the one you were looking for, right?”

 

Dean grabbed the book and tore out the small coupon as his cheeks flushed. Castiel knew better than to offer to pay for dinner, so he turned back towards the bed and took a seat as he opened his phone.

 

“What kind of pizza do you like, Cas?”

 

Castiel looked up and squinted his eyes slightly as he thought it over. The pepperoni he’d had previously was good. “Pepperoni,” he said with a slight question. “Anything is fine though.”

 

“Dean loves meat-lovers,” Sam said with a laugh as Dean glared back.

 

“Pepperoni is fine, Sammy,” Dean replied sternly. “Do you want veggie then?”

 

Sam nodded and looked between them before sitting down on the scuffed hardwood floor. He pulled out his phone and placed the order, something they were both clearly accustomed to.

 

Castiel looked around the room for a desk, unsurprised to not find one. He slid to the floor next to Sam and grabbed his backpack which he had set down the door. Dean groaned and sat down as well, leaning back against his bed.

 

“Sam, he’s like you, wants to get right down to homework,” he said as if it physically pained him.

 

“I probably have you to thank for Dean’s recent good grades then,” Sam replied. He opened his mouth as if to say more but then closed it quickly.

 

“So where are you from, Cas?”

 

“Seattle,” Cas replied bluntly.

 

“Lots of rain there?”

 

Cas nodded as he flipped open the textbook he’d pulled from his backpack. “Kansas is certainly much drier.”

 

“Are you into sports, like Dean?”

 

Castiel looked up and cocked his head to the side. “Not necessarily,” he paused to think about it for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to say that most of his interests involved school. “I guess I like to read.”

 

Dean looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Cas?”

 

“Cas is taking photography now,” Dean said to his brother, “and he’s surprisingly good at it.”

 

Cas looked down at his paper as a small smile tugged at his lips. “I find it much more enjoyable than I initially presumed.”

 

Sam laughed suddenly, “You certainly sound like someone who reads a lot,” he said.

 

“Ignore him, Cas. Don’t you have some homework to do or a certain girl named Jess to keep texting?”

 

Sam set Dean with an unamused stare as he stood up. “I’ll be back when the pizza’s here, which is on _you_ today, Dean.”

 

As the door shut behind Sam, Dean leaned over and whispered with a laugh, “It’s _always_ on me.”

 

A shiver went down Cas’ spine as Dean’s lips brushed so close to his ear, with the slightly gravelly tone. He hadn’t felt this way with anyone in a long time, and it sent his stomach into knots.

 

Castiel gulped and looked back down at his book, willing his heart to slow down and forcing himself to look anywhere but at Dean and the hundred little freckles that littered across the top of his nose and cheeks, or the small hint of stubble along his strong jaw, or the way his shirt clung tightly to his sides. Castiel shook his head slightly at himself.

 

*********

 

Two empty pizza boxes lay between the three of them as they sat on Dean’s floor. The paper cut-outs of a heart, a kidney, and lung were tucked inside Castiel’s book for safe-keeping. He felt sick from the amount of pizza he’d eaten and had been surprised to see Sam tuck away just as much food as his brother. The kid was scrawny but probably not for very long. Castiel liked him, he was a lot like Dean in some ways with a sharp wit, but he was also more immature and selfish. It was easy to see that Dean had been shoved into a parent role for his brother, but they both cared immensely for one another. Having been an only child, it was something that Castiel envied and wished he’d had growing up.

 

Dean stood up and stretched, groaning and complaining about how full he was. Castiel moved to Dean’s bed and sat down on it, giving his ass a welcome rest from the hard floor. Dean picked up the empty pizza boxes and stepped around his brother who was still sprawled across the floor, working on his math homework.

 

“I’ll be back, going to toss these in the trash,” Dean said with a smile.

 

A door downstairs opened and slammed loudly, and Castiel watched as the smile drained from Dean’s face. Sam sat straight up and looked worryingly towards his brother. _Shit_.

 

“Dad’s home,” Dean said dryly. Castiel grabbed his backpack and placed his book back inside it quickly, following Dean down the stairs.

 

“You tell that asshole Bobby Singer that I quit,” Dean’s father yelled from inside the kitchen. Castiel heard the clink of several bottles.

 

They nearly collided with him as they rounded the corner from the stairs, and Castiel could tell why Dean had been so cautious to invite him over. The man stunk like alcohol. He would have been good-looking if not for the dark circles under his eyes and the thick stubble around his jaw. He and Dean shared many of the same features, minus Dean’s kind eyes.

 

“Who’s this?”

 

“A friend. We were just working on a project,” Dean replied curtly.

 

Castiel stood slightly taller. “I’m Castiel,” he said, holding the other man’s gaze.

 

“Did I say you could have guests?”

 

“No,” Dean said, averting his eyes.

 

“No, what?”

 

“No, sir,” Dean said, his body going stiff.

 

Dean’s father glared between them before pushing forward towards his bedroom. “Don’t forget what I said about Singer,” he called out behind him before slamming the bedroom door.

 

Dean let out a huge sigh and motioned for Cas to follow him. They stepped outside the front door and Dean hung his head.

 

“I’m so sorry about that, man.”

 

“It’s okay, I understand,” Cas said reassuringly.

 

Dean rubbed his hand along the back of his neck as he glanced back towards the ground. “So I guess, I’ll uh, see you at school tomorrow?”

 

Castiel nodded, unsure of how to remedy the situation. He made a mental note to send Dean a text later that night. “I’ll see you later, Dean.”

 

Thankfully Dean didn’t offer to drive Cas home,, otherwise Dean would realize that Castiel didn’t have the most traditional home.

 

 


	8. Twenty-Two

Dean tapped his pencil along the side of the table as he glared at the questions on the test in front of him. He could hear the turning of the pages as the other students in the classroom breezed through quickly, particularly Cas to his right.

 

As if it wasn’t painful enough to have to read “ _A Tale of Two Cities_ ”, but to be tested on it along with an essay portion. Dean shook his head at his paper. The test had somehow completely slipped his mind. He was sure Cas had mentioned it before but lately Dean had been finding it harder and harder to concentrate on what he was _saying_ , as he’d been focusing his energy on _not_ staring at Cas’ lips or staring into his dark blue eyes.

 

Dean pushed back his chair in frustration. “Fuck this,” he announced loudly as he stood up. He looked at Castiel, whose eyes were wide with shock and his mouth gaped open.

 

The teacher slammed her book down on her desk and glared back at Dean. “Up here right now, mister.”

 

Dean sauntered towards the front of the classroom, a smirk on his face. “I’m sorry Mrs. Mills, but the book was atrocious, and I got through one chapter before giving up.”

 

She narrowed her eyes and Dean and pulled him towards the door. “This is county-mandated reading and as much as I loathe it _myself_ , such disorderly conduct cannot be tolerated.”

 

Dean nodded slowly. He liked Mrs. Mills, she was generally a good teacher and wasn’t too strict most of the time. He stood by the door waiting for her to finish filling out the detention slip he was sure she was writing.

 

“In the future, Dean, I suggest you at least attempt to study even if it means using SparkNotes,” she said with a frown. “Disrupt my class again during a test and I’ll have you expelled.”

 

“Fair enough,” he said with a grin. “Thanks for the tip, Mrs. Mills!”.

 

Dean sprinted down the hallway with a grin of satisfaction on his face. He slid to a stop in front of his locker and quickly spun the dial to his combination. He grabbed the small orb from inside a blue cloth stuffed towards the back. He ran towards the bathroom, barreling into the principle on the way.

 

“Sorry, Zach,” he said as he ran past, knowing full well that the principal hated students referring to him using his first name. It felt good to do it.

 

Dean slammed the stall door shut behind him and pulled out the small orb. He turned the knob several times and focused on where he wanted to go back to. It was Wednesday, and if he returned to Tuesday night after work, he’d have time to look up the book online. It would be easy since he’d already seen the test questions. The numbers read “22” inside and he turned the knob once more, keeping in mind his destination.

 

It wasn’t as simple as it seemed. He had to appear somewhere where he was alone and where he’d been before. If he went back too early, he’d appear in his bedroom but he wasn’t sure what happened to the version of himself that would have been at work. It was safer not to find out.

 

The familiar lines of light formed around him as he focused on the exact time he wanted to go back to. He wasn’t sure if the destination mattered, but he focused on that too, which seemed to work each time. The lighted strings flew past him until one hit him straight in the chest and when the lights faded around him, he was back inside his room and the sun was down. Dean reached for his phone which was on the nightstand and checked the date. It had worked, just like every time before.

 

He pulled his old laptop out off his nightstand and quickly began typing up the test questions he could remember and then googled “SparkNotes”, as his teacher had suggested.

 

*********

Dean flipped through the pages quickly, circling his answers confidently. His internet search had proved fruitful, with summaries of each chapter. He heard Cas flip a page beside him and Dean smirked as he sped along faster.

 

He was the first to stand up and turn in his test, receiving a confused look from Mrs. Mills. “I didn’t expect you to be a Dickens fan,” she said.

 

With a laugh Dean replied, “More into Vonnegut, actually,” earning him yet another surprised look.

 

“Can’t say I disagree,” Mrs. Mills whispered  with a laugh.

 

Dean walked back towards his seat, catching Cas’ eye who looked at him suspiciously. Dean ignored him and pulled out his algebra homework as he waited for the rest of the class to finish. Thankfully it took the entire class period, which meant no lecture time, and Dean was able to finish the algebra homework he had skipped in favor of studying the night before. Everything had worked out perfectly.

 

As the bell rang, Dean jauntily swung his backpack over his shoulder as he waited for Cas to pack up. Cas shoot him another glare as he pulled Dean by his elbow outside the classroom door, out of earshot.

 

“Did you cheat?”

 

Dean widened his eyes, “Excuse me?”

 

Cas sighed and shook his head. “I’m not saying you are not capable of acing a test and finishing it before me, of course.”

 

Dean waited for Cas to continue.

 

“But,”

 

“There it is,” Dean said with a laugh.

 

Cas shot Dean another annoyed stare. “Ok, I get your point. It’s just very un-Dean-like.”

 

“I’m full of surprises, Cas,” Dean said as he walked backwards away from his friend.

 

*********

 

Castiel watched as Dean walked away with an extra bounce to his step. Part of him felt bad for actually asking if he cheated. He knew Dean was smart, and the problem was that most of the time the only one who doubted that was Dean. This was something different  though. Cas couldn’t put his finger on it but something just felt slightly off.

 

For the millionth time, his mind drifted back towards the thought of his missing time travel device, and what he wouldn’t give to find it again. Castiel stopped at his locker to drop off his books before his art class and to grab his camera.

 

He felt a small tap on his shoulder and he turned around, surprised to find his father--Chuck--standing there. Cas blinked a few times in surprise. His dad was so much shorter than him.

 

“Hey, Castiel, right?”

 

“Yes, how’re you Chuck? I haven’t seen you on the bus lately,” Cas replied, hoping to sound casual.

 

“Oh yeah, that. Well my girlfriend, Becky, has been driving me,” he said a little too proudly Cas tried to keep a straight-face but the situation was altogether amusing.

 

Cas sought for the right response. “That’s nice of her,” Cas settled on. A polite and short response.

 

“Anyway,” Chuck continued, talking with hands, “I know you’re doing some photography and Becky wanted me to ask you about covering some of the baseball tryouts.”

 

Castiel cocked his head to the side. “You’ve never seen my photos though,” he said.

 

“Well, I know you’re friends with Dean Winchester. You’re new but you probably know. The guy single-handedly almost won state for us his freshman year.”

 

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise. Of course Dean wouldn’t talk about himself in such a high manner, but it certainly seemed to be true based on the way Cas had seen him batting.

 

“I’m not one for sports myself,” Chuck pointed to himself, “I prefer a pen and paper. But this story’s a pretty big deal and Becky really wants it.”

 

“You’re on the newspaper?” Castiel asked. He’d always imagined his father was a young physics master, winner of science fairs, and engineering awards. How did a geeky guy who wrote for the newspaper turn into the callous man who’d invented time travel?

 

“I know, surprising right,” Chuck said with a laugh. “I’m a total scifi guy, fiction, fantasy, you name it.”

 

 _There it was_. Castiel tried to keep from chuckling to himself. It was becoming impossible to reconcile this version of his father to the one he’d known as a child. Did he get the wrong guy?

 

Castiel realized that his father was still waiting for a response. “Oh, yeah, I know what you mean,” he said with a forced laugh. “I’d be happy to take some pictures for you, I’m sure Dean wouldn’t mind.”

 

“Awesome, thanks pal,” Chuck said as he shuffled away, waving backwards at Cas one more time.

 

Castiel shook his head and closed his locker, securing his camera around his chest. It was certainly shaping up to be an interesting day.

 

 


	9. Fifteen

Dean stared down at his feet as the customer yelled loudly at him, spit flying from his lips. It wasn’t a big mistake, the wrong oil in this guy’s fancy porsche and it was World War Three. It took all he had to grit his teeth and keep from decking the guy in the face.

 

“I apologize,” Dean began but the large man didn’t want to hear it. He pressed a finger against Dean’s chest.

 

“Get me your manager.”

 

“I’m right here, and you damn well better get your hand off my employee,” Bobby said, the door slamming behind him.

 

Dean watched as Bobby stomped towards them, his flannel shirt full of oil stains. He was close with Bobby but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get his ass handed to him later for his mistake. The garage wasn’t doing well enough that it could afford to lose customers, especially those who had enough money to pay for tune-ups and oil changes every few weeks.

 

The man was beet red in the face as he glared at Dean and then at Bobby. “If my engine is shot, _you’re_ paying for a replacement.”

 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Your damn engine is fine, and I won’t charge you for your trouble today,” he said sarcastically, “but you’re not welcome back here again.”

 

Dean blinked a few times, guilt creeping in even deeper. He wiped his hands on the rag from his pocket and peered at Bobby cautiously.. Bobby tossed the keys to the customer and called back over his shoulder, “Your car’s out front.”

 

Dean looked at the confused expression on the customer’s face and hurried after Bobby, placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Bobby, wait, I can explain.”

 

Bobby turned around, his mouth in a straight line. “You don’t need to explain boy, it was a mistake.”

 

“I know, but it won’t happen again, I promise.”

 

The rest of the garage was empty and Bobby looked around, his shoulders hunched over in defeat. “This place is strugglin’, Dean. He paused as he shook his head, staring at the ground. “We need customers.”

 

Dean opened his mouth to protest, to find the words to say to fight for his job. His mind raced a mile a minute as he realized that he might lose the best job he’d be able to get in a small run-down town in Kansas.

 

Bobby held up a hand, “I don’t mean I regret telling that sonofabitch to get out of here,” he laughed, “no one talks to my employee that way.”

 

With a nod, Dean pretended to understand. “Thanks.”

 

“Take a few days off, okay, kid? Get your head together and come back in this weekend.”

 

Dean kicked one foot iddly at some stray sand inside the garage. He didn’t know how to tell Bobby that he _couldn’t_ take a few days off. John sure as hell wasn’t putting in enough hours at Bobby’s or anywhere else to bring in enough money to pay the bills at the end of the month. Dean took a deep breath and gave Bobby a fake grin.

 

“Okay, I’ll see you on Friday then.”

 

*********

 

Dean sat in his car with his head against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths to steady himself. He’d come so close to losing his job. In fact, if it were any other job he was sure he would have been fired ages ago. Dean reached inside his backpack on the seat next to him and pulled out the small gold orb. He flipped it open and read the number inside. Fifteen, fifteen changes to change his life. He quickly closed it and dropped it in his lap.

 

He glanced at the clock, shaking his head. He’d only been at work a few hours, it was still daylight out and somehow he’d still fucked up. Dean pulled his phone from his pocket and read a message from Cas, a wry joke about their homework for the night and doing it alone in his house. Dean couldn’t help but grin, it was flirtatious and slightly suggestive for no real reason. Somewhere along the line their friendship had become wrapped in a blanket of suggestive jokes guised under the mask of a traditional masculine relationship.

He thought briefly about responding but realized it wouldn’t matter anyway. He grabbed the orb from his lap and opened it again, going through the familiar motions. He focused on returning to the morning on this same day. If he did it right, maybe he wouldn’t fuck up at work and maybe just maybe he’d still get out early and could finally show Cas the local diner.

 

*********

Dean slid out from beneath the silver Porche, a smug smile on his face. He’d done an extra tune-up just because and had put the correct oil in the tank this time. Since it was technically his second time around on this car, he knew the ins and outs a little better, could work faster, and get it right. Most of the cars they got in the shop were Corolla’s, Honda Civic’s, and the occasional Toyota Prius from who he assumed were the few vegetarians in Lawrence.

 

He proudly filled out the paperwork and drove the car around front, admiring the black leather interior and smooth clutch. It wasn’t his type of car but he could certainly admire it.

 

When he stepped out, he was surprised to see Bobby waiting around front, whistling to himself as he completed paperwork and handed it to the customer, who was surprisingly smiling and appreciative of his car being done early.

 

“Looks like everything’s good to go, sir,” Dean said as he handed over the keys. “I did some tuning up under the hood too.”

 

The man smiled slowly and clapped Bobby on the shoulder, “You got a good worker here.”

 

“He’s my best,” Bobby said proudly as he winked at Dean. They both knew Dean was his only staff but it still made him feel good and he puffed his chest out slightly.

 

After the customer was gone, Bobby looked at Dean and shook his head. “Sometimes you surprise me, kid.”

 

Dean shrugged slightly. “Just doing my job.”

 

“Keep it up and one day this place is yours,” Bobby said with grin, “as long as those high rolling customers keep coming in here.”

 

Dean laughed and rubbed a hand at the back of his head. He knew Bobby was worried about the garage. Business had been slower than usual. Dean pulled his phone out from his back pocket and tried to keep from smiling widely as he read Cas’ text.

 

“Head on out early, kid. This place is dead and I’ll take care of closing today,” Bobby said kindly. “Looks like you’ve got a date to meet tonight anyway,” he said, chuckling.

 

Dean tried not to roll his eyes or to worry over the insinuation. He texted Cas back quickly, asking him to meet at a local diner for dinner, like they’d been talking about doing for weeks.

 

*********

 

Castiel looked around the diner, pulling out his phone to check the time. He was a few minutes early and it looked like Dean still hadn’t arrived. A waitress in an old-fashioned dress and apron approached him, a stack of menus on her hand.

 

“How many?”

 

Cas blinked a few times before he realized she was asking how many people were in his party. “Two,” he said, holding up two fingers. He assumed it was just him and Dean but he hadn’t actually thought to ask. The waitress led him to a booth and set down two menus, giving him a small smile as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

 

“My name’s Lisa, if you need anything.”

 

He nodded and pulled his phone out once again, contemplating sending Dean a text. He looked up as the small bell on the door rang, and a wave of relief washed over him as he saw Dean stroll in. Cas lifted his arm and gave one curt wave to get Dean’s attention.

 

Dean slid into the seat, a grin on his face. Cas noted that his hair was still wet and his cheeks slightly flushed. He looked good, with a fitted black t-shirt underneath a maroon button-down that was certainly not buttoned.

 

“Sorry I’m late, Cas. Couldn’t find any street parking for a few blocks.”

 

Cas nodded slowly, “I was beginning to think I was stood up.”

 

Dean leaned forward over the table slightly, ‘I never leave my date hanging,” he said as he raised one eyebrow. They stared at one another for a moment before Dean sat back with a chuckle. It was a new thing, like a game of Chicken, in which one or both of them had to be suggestive with the other. Cas was sure that Dean hadn’t yet noticed that Cas was never the one to pull back.

 

“So what do you recommend?” Cas asked, grabbing a menu.

 

“A burger,” Dean replied, not bothering to look at his menu.

 

Cas looked up and fixed Dean with a stare. “There are eight different types of burgers listed here, Dean.”

 

“Just get the house burger, it’s the best one,” Dean replied with a grin. He tapped on the menu, “I get a burger and fries, and then a piece of pie to top it all off with.”

 

Castiel pretended to be disgusted but it did sound appetizing. “I’ll stick to the burger and fries for now I think.”

 

Dean shrugged, “I’m not sharing my pie with you.” He stared directly back at Cas, his green eyes sparkling with a challenge. Dean Winchester was nothing if not all too entirely alluring while also being the biggest tease.

 

“Can I take your order?”

 

They broke eye contact quickly, looking over at their waitress.

 

“Dean Winchester! I haven’t seen you here in awhile.” The girl said, flashing a bright smile. “And who is your friend?”

 

Dean looked between them, slightly confused. “This is Cas, and Cas this is Lisa.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Cas,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Do you guys know what you’re having?”

 

Dean flashed her a brilliant smile, “You know me, Lis, I’ll have my regular.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, _I know_.”

 

“I’ll have the same, minus the pie,” Cas said as he stared back and forth between them.

 

Lisa laughed and pointed her pen at Dean, “Well don’t expect him to share his!”

 

Cas watched her as she walked away, a bounce in her step. When he turned back at Dean he was surprised to see a small scowl on his face.

 

“What?” Castiel asked.

 

“What was that?”

 

“I’m assuming she’s an ex-girlfriend.” Cas replied with annoyance.

 

“Yeah, actually, Cas, she is.”

 

“And?” Castiel was confused as to why Dean was upset. In fact, he was the one who was slightly annoyed to see how quickly Dean shifted his beaming smile on someone other than him.

 

“She likes you,” Dean said curtly.

 

Cas shrugged his shoulders. “So? You’re mad because of something I can’t control?”

 

Dean opened his mouth and shut it. “I guess not.”

 

Castiel cocked his head to the side slightly as he gazed across the table at Dean. It was irrational and silly.“Do you like her?”

 

Dean laughed and shook his head. “No way, not anymore, at least not like that.”

 

Cas rolled his eyes in frustration. “Dean, then why did we have this conversation?”

 

They both closed their mouths as Lisa walked back up, balancing several plates. She placed them on the table and gave Cas a small smile as she placed a bottle of ketchup on the table.

 

“You boys need anything else?”

 

Dean shook his head, “We’re good, thanks, Lis.”

 

*********

 

“Cas, you seriously have never gone camping before?” Dean asked incredulously. “I’m taking you sometime.”

 

“I’m not sure if I should be surprised that you enjoy it.”

 

“I’m an outdoorsman,” Dean said defiantly, sitting slightly taller. “Ok, well, maybe not completely but there’s something about just escaping and being out in the woods on your own.”

 

“You mean with beer and hot dogs, right? “Cas said with a smirk.

 

“Don’t forget the tight quarters in a tent,” Dean replied back, pulling his plate of pie towards him.

 

Castiel tried to ignore the way Dean’s lips wrapped tightly around the fork, his eyes closing in pleasure and he moaned slightly. It was almost obscene.

 

“I bet you’re regretting not having one of these now, huh?” Dean said, taking another bite.

 

Cas leaned forward across the table, “I really am.” Dean’s eyes widened in surprise as Cas grabbed his fork from his mouth and took a large chunk of pie. He grinned before he sat back and placed it in his mouth, slowly closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he swallowed. He figured two could play that game.

 

Dean swallowed and cleared his throat as he tried not to stare. Cas pulled the fork out of his mouth and placed it on the plate with the half eaten pie.

 

“You were saying?”

 

Dean had to break out in a chuckle. “You’re such a shithead,” he said shaking his head. He cut the rest of the pie in half and pushed it towards Cas. “Have as much as you want.”

 

“I think I will,” Cas said with a smug grin.

 

 


	10. The Dugout

Dean watched the ball fly right between second and third base, a strong line drive that would have earned him one base if not two. He pulled his helmet off his head and shook out his hair, trying to remove some of the sweat from it. He was sure he had terrible helmet hair but he wasn’t bothered. He’d had to wait for Benny to finish using the pitching machine, so he’d gotten started a little later than usual.

 

The sun was going to start setting soon and the air had begun to get chilly. Fall was coming, that was evident. Dean dropped his bat and watched as Cas sprinted up from the dugout, happy as usual to help collect all the balls in the outfield.

 

It took Dean a while longer to clear his half of the field, but Cas jogged around easily in his white undershirt and khakis. “You sure you’re not into sports?” Dean called out.

 

Cas looked across the field and shrugged. He probably couldn’t hear him anyway. Dean finished throwing the rest of his balls towards the pitching mound and jogged over, scooping them up and tossing the them into basket. Cas was already there, turning off the machine.

 

Dean looked at Cas again. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

 

“Right now?” Cas asked, gazing at the setting sun above them.

 

“We’ve got about 40 minutes before the sun goes down,” Dean said with a shrug. “You told me you would try it sometime.”

 

A slow small grin crossed Cas’ face. “Sure, but only if you teach me.”

 

“You bet I will, Cas.” Dean felt his heart race slightly. It felt like a dare from both of them and he wasn’t sure he was ready to step up to the plate.

 

Dean picked up his sweaty helmet and tossed it to Cas, who caught it with one hand and smirked.

 

“The Mariner’s suck, so I’m going to assume I need to teach you the basics since no one in Seattle probably has.”

 

Cas raised an eyebrow back at Dean and twirled the bat a few times.

 

Dean tried not to laugh as he shook his head and followed Cas towards the plate.

“You’re right handed, so you’ll stand on this side of the plate,” he said as he pulled Cas by the shoulders to the correct position.

 

Cas followed his instructions and placed both hands on his bat, setting it over his shoulder and looked over at Dean for more instruction. The look was so innocent that Dean had to look down at the ground for a moment to hide his smile.

 

“Okay, so you put your right hand above your left, like this,” he said, taking the bat from Cas’s hands and showing him. He handed the bat back, and Cas tried it.

 

“Do I grip it tightly?” Cas asked and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle, “Not too tight, don’t be so eager, Cas,” he said with a wink.

 

Cas shook his head and rolled his eyes but held the bat again, placing it again on his shoulder and taking a few practice swings.

 

“It feels awkward,” he said bluntly.

 

Dean stepped behind Cas, careful not to press hard against him, and helped reposition his arms. “Choke up a little,” Dean said behind Cas.

 

Cas doubled over laughing and pushed Dean away. “Okay, I got it, thanks for your help, _coach_.”

 

Dean laughed in return and jogged towards the pitching machine, hiding the flush across his cheeks from when they’d touched. He turned the machine back on and yelled over to Cas. “Are you ready?”

 

Cas nodded, his helmet sliding slightly into his eyes. Dean waited for him to fix it before setting the machine to fire. He turned it down to a slower speed for Cas and picked up a glove to try to field any balls.

 

The first swing was an absolute mess and Dean found himself keeled over on the ground with laughter. “I can’t breathe,” he called out. By the time he looked up, he just saw Cas giving him the finger.

 

The next few were just as sloppy but Cas eventually hit one. “That’s good, just keep your eye on the ball,” Dean called out.

 

Cas rolled his eyes but stepped back up to the plate with determination. He hit the next one, a solid pop-fly that Dean jogged back a few feet to catch.

 

Cas missed more than he hit, but Dean was proud of him for trying. When the machine ran out of balls to pitch, he shut it off and jogged towards Cas, giving him a high five and clap on the back.

 

“That was good, Cas, really.”

 

Cas narrowed his eyes again. “I don’t think baseball is my thing.”

 

Dean laughed, “Fair enough.”

 

They picked up the extra balls and carried the pitching machine back to the dugout, dropping it down on the ground. Dean grabbed his water bottle, glancing mischievously over at his friend. With one hand he opened the top, dumping it onto Cas’ head in one swift motion, as Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise and he let out a small yell of surprise.

 

Cas grabbed his own water bottle from his backpack and removed the top quickly, pinning Dean against the wire fence as he drenched him in return. Dean struggled but Cas was nearly his size and he wasn’t very successful and the cold water covered his head and ran into his eyes.

 

It was a moment, just enough for both of them to find their breath caught in their throats as their laughs died away. Dean’s heart pounded in his chest as he felt Cas’ forearm against his torso, and his back pressed tightly against the fence. Cas’ eyes traveled down towards Dean’s lips, and Dean licked them slowly in anticipation.

 

Two water bottles clattered to the ground as Dean pulled Cas towards him, running his hands through Cas’ messy, and wet, hair. Dean groaned into Cas’ neck as Cas pulled their bodies closer together against the dugout fence. Dean took Cas’ bottom lip and pulled it into his mouth, sucking on it like he’d been daydreaming about ever since he’d met him.

 

Cas briefly pulled away to look at Dean, his pupils wide and breath ragged. Dean was sure he looked the same way and he pulled Cas back towards him, relishing the feeling of their stubble grating against each other and the small water droplets that fell from their hair onto each other’s cheeks.

 

It seemed like it lasted forever and yet for no time at all. Dean pulled back with a low moan as he felt himself getting painfully hard. He’d kissed a guy before, but it was nothing like this. He wasn’t sure what to do exactly but he suspected Cas had the same problem as he felt his inner thigh getting poked. Cas pulled back as well and averted his eyes, pushing down on his crotch with the palms of his hands.

 

“So I guess, uh, we should call it a night,” Dean said awkwardly as he picked up his water bottle from the ground and tossed the other one to Cas.

 

“Yes. It was, fun, I mean the baseball part was fun. The other stuff too, well you know what I mean,” Cas stuttered.

 

“I’ll text you later,” Dean said Cas pulled his backpack on. “I’ll get the rest of this stuff put away,” Dean said motioning to the baseball supplies. Cas nodded and waved as he left.

 

*********

Castiel dropped his stuff onto the floor and immediately walked towards his shower. He waved. He fucking _waved_. Castiel turned the knob to hot and waited for the water to warm up as he removed his clothing. Not only was he achingly hard, he’d had to ride the bus back with his backpack on his lap, and his cheeks flushed red from embarrassment. _Who waves?_

 

He stepped into the shower and groaned, leaning his head against the white tile. He felt like an idiot. An awkward idiot. He’d been here for almost two months and in that time he’d made a friend, probably the closest friend he’d ever had, and now would probably lose him as well.

 

It was his tendency to run through things and analyze them a million times. It had felt right, it felt way too right to even imagine taking back. The electricity between them had been palpable and Cas knew it wasn’t just on his side. Dean had given just as much as he taken, and it felt like they had been building to this for the past few weeks.

 

_But what if he didn’t like it?_

 

Cas ran his hands through his hair and rubbed shampoo in, going over everything they’d said to one another. There was no way they had their signals crossed in any way, but why was it so painfully awkward when they pulled away? Dean had looked like a deer caught in headlights, which was uncharacteristic. Castiel would have expected a half-assed quip about it. Instead, Dean let Cas walk away, without another glance back towards him. There was no mistaking the chemistry but what if it Dean was disappointed? It’s not like Cas had much experience in that department to begin with.

 

 _What if he_ did _like it?_

 

The thought entered Castiel’s mind and he entertained it further as he stroked himself slowly and languidly, replaying their kiss in his mind. He could feel the slight roughness of Dean’s grey henley beneath his fingertips and the smell of sweat and leather mixed in with minty aftershave. Cas was hard almost instantly, and found himself coming quickly against the shower wall.

 

*********

 

Dean gazed up at the white stucco ceiling above his bed, lost in thought. He’d jumped into the shower the second he’d gotten home, ignoring all questions and comments from Sam about why he was drenched. It was easy to just pretend as if it was just another day he had to jack off in the shower, and maybe the source of his fantasy wasn’t so much a fantasy anymore, but that had been fine while he was in the safety of his own shower.

 

The reality was that Cas was his friend, and well more than that, well, Cas was a guy. Dean had been through his first crisis when he was fifteen with some guy named Aaron who was in town for the summer. They’d only kissed a few times in the alley of the local diner and that had been it. The guy was nice and Dean had wondered if maybe it was just a phase. Besides Han Solo, Indiana Jones, Chris Pratt, and Brad Pitt in “Interview with a Vampire” (which he’d never ever admit), Dean hadn’t really thought much about his attraction to other males.

 

_But this is Cas._

 

There was something so much more there, despite the obvious physical attraction Dean felt towards him. They were friends, in a way that he never had been with any girl or boy in a relationship before. Dean rolled over and slide open his nightstand drawer, pulling out his time traveling ball. It would be so easy. He could fix it, start the day over again and make it so it never happened.

 

Another possibility entered his mind which scared him. He could redo it, live it all over again. The fact that part of him yearned for that was terrifying. Dean ran his fingers over his lips and took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be right. In fact, when it came to Cas he felt that redoing any of it would be so unfair. Cas would never know it but Dean couldn’t bring himself to mess with it, he couldn’t risk their relationship, whatever form it happened to be in.

 

Dean dropped the orb back into his drawer and pushed it closed, rolling back over onto his back and closing his eyes. He didn’t know what he wanted or what he was going to do the next day, but he’d at least made the decision to move forward and not backwards with it.

 

 


	11. Consequences

They hadn’t talked at all over the weekend and Sunday night Dean began to feel anxious from it. His stomach was tied in knots as he kept checking his phone every few minutes. Sam had definitely noticed and commented on it enough time that Dean began to feel self conscious about it. It wasn’t like Dean had sent a text to Cas all weekend, but the waiting around was driving him crazy.

 

Dean grabbed his keys from the counter and looked over at his father who was staring at the TV with his eyes glazed over. Dean didn’t bother saying anything and just sent a quick text to his brother saying that he would be back soon.

 

He roughly remembered the way Cas normally took home and so he started by driving that way, looking for a neighborhood along the way. Cas rode the red line bus into school which usually came down Center Court and then through the middle of town and out to the high school. He passed a few hotels along the way and then found himself downtown. As if it wasn’t hard enough for him to suck up his pride and go talk to Cas in person, he for some reason had no clue where Cas lived. _Fuck_.

 

_What’s your address?_

 

He texted quickly to Cas, who responded almost instantly.

 

_Why?_

 

Dean rolled his eyes and clicked the call button. As soon as he heard the line pick up, he spoke. “I’m coming over, you doofus. What’s your address?”

 

Cas paused and he heard him take a deep breath.

 

“314 Center Court, #33”

 

Dean didn’t wait for another response and hung up. He turned around, heading back towards the way he’d just come. Something felt wrong, and he knew no neighborhoods were off of Center Court. He pulled up to a hotel and let his lights flash on the address. Sure enough, it was 314.

 

He pulled into an empty spot and looked around for the room numbers. _Why in the world is Cas living at an Extended Stay Hotel?_

 

Dean thought his own life was weird and screwy but he suddenly felt like dropping by uninvited was going to be a bad idea. He shoved his phone into his pocked and pulled his keys from the ignition. He’d already hung up on Cas which wasn’t going to make this any easier he figured, but he was here.

 

He climbed the stairs and stopped outside the door with the number 33 on it. Dean took a deep breath and then knocked twice. Cas swung the door open immediately, his face solemn.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

Small rain drops began to fall on the landing and Dean looked behind him as the parking lot potholes quickly began to fill with water. When he looked back at Cas, his gaze had softened slightly.

 

“Mind if I come in to apologize or want me to do it in the rain?” Dean asked sheepishly.

 

Cas stepped inside and let Dean follow before closing the door. Dean couldn’t help but notice that Cas had small bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept.

 

“Look, man, I’m sorry,” Dean said, suddenly feeling awful. “I freaked out. It wasn’t about you, well it was about you, but not because of what you think.”

 

Dean took a deep breath as he noticed a hint of a smile on Cas’ lips. “I should have texted you like I said I would.”

 

“I suppose it would have been just as easy for me to text you as well,” Cas admitted.

 

Dean sat down on the arm of the couch and looked over at Cas. He hated these conversations. He wasn’t really sure what he wanted, but he knew that he couldn’t lose Cas as a friend. If it meant being just friends, then he could do that, as much as it would suck. He was too damn afraid to admit it but he wanted to hear that Cas wanted the same thing.

 

“Do we kiss and make up now?” Dean asked jokingly.

 

Cas tried to glare in response but cracked a small smile. “Okay, I know. This is super awkward.”

 

Dean stood up and stepped towards Cas. He saw Cas gulp slightly and then look away only after his eyes had traveled up and down Dean’s body. Cas took a few steps back and shook his head.

 

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Dean,” he said quietly.

 

Dean sighed and took a seat back on the couch, and Cas did the same.

 

“Why are you here, Cas? What is this?” Dean finally asked, dropping his facade.

 

Cas looked around at his hotel room, the small pile of stuff he’d acquired and the bag laying by the bedroom door, fully packed.

 

“Do you even have a family?” Dean asked again.

 

“I do,” Cas replied tentatively. “Everything I told you about my mother was true. She just doesn’t happen to be _here_.”

 

“So she’s back in Seattle?”

 

“You could say that.”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes at Cas. “You’re being awfully secretive, man. First you tell me how much you value our friendship and then you can’t even tell me why you’re living in a damn hotel by yourself. What are you doing in Kansas?”

 

Cas looked down at his hands in his lap. “I was looking for my father.” He met Dean’s eyes, “That is the truth.”

 

“All you've told me is that he left when you were a kid, I mean, I could help you. We’re a small town and I know almost everyone.”

 

Cas shook his head, “It’s not as easy as that.” He paused and looked around the room, “I think I got what I came for anyway. It’s leaving that became difficult.”

 

Dean gazed over towards the packed bag on the floor, but a small gold object on the TV stand caught his eye. He stood up quickly and grabbed it, holding it up towards Cas. “Why do you have this?”

 

The disjointed information he’d gotten from Cas suddenly began to make a lot more sense. The way Cas had just appeared in town, _out of thin air_. Dean’s head spun as he put the pieces together, his fist closing tightly around the golden ball.

 

“Who are you and where are you from? Tell me the truth,” Dean said through grit teeth.

 

Cas narrowed his eyes and stood up as well. “What do you mean, Dean?” He grabbed the orb from Dean’s hand and glared back at him. Dean narrowed his eyebrows further. Playing dumb wouldn’t work with him.

 

“Do you have one?” Cas finally asked, his chest heaving with anger with each word. “Show it to me.”

 

“I don’t have it with me,” Dean spat out. “I found it on the first day of class and had no idea what it was.”

 

“Do you _still_ have no idea what it does?”

 

Dean wasn’t the brightest bulb but he also wasn’t a complete idiot, “No. I...I figured it out, Cas.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “That explains the test. The days you were on time, the work shifts you suddenly didn’t have to cover.”

 

“Yeah, Cas. It explains the time I got to spend with my brother, to spend practicing for baseball tryouts, for the time we spent together,” Dean said replied harshly.

 

Cas took a deep breath and rubbed at his temples slowly. “I’m sorry Dean but you have no idea about the damage you could have caused. It would have been my fault. It is my fault.”

 

Dean looked down at the ground. That had occurred to him of course, but it had been easier to ignore it and just hope for the best. He looked down, suddenly feeling ashamed. “I just thought I had finally caught a break. I could have a little more time to make things work.”

 

Cas’ gaze softened briefly but he eventually shook his head.

 

“How many do you have left?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“How many trips do you have left,” Cas clarified.

 

“Enough,” Dean lied, thinking of the blinking number one which he’d been saving. Maybe tonight would be a good time to use it.

 

Cas balled his hands up into fists at his sides. “You mean you have one trip left, don’t you, Dean?”

 

“So what, Cas, okay. Screw you. How many hundreds of trips do you have on your device, huh? Why don’t you just leave since it seems like that was plan?” Dean asked, his voice rising again.

 

“I only have one trip left, dammit,” Cas said in a gravelly tone. “You used all my other one’s up, Dean. Thank you.”

 

Dean glared back at Cas, realizing the implication of his words. Cas was going to leave and probably never come back. It hit him like a ton of bricks in his gut and he struggled to take a breath before it overwhelmed him completely. His eyes traveled over the packed bags once more. He thought of all the words of encouragement from Cas to follow through with baseball, that Dean should do something for himself. It seemed like anytime he thought he could be happy, it would only be yanked away. He clenched his fists again at his side and his mind drifted back towards their kiss; what it had meant to Dean. How _much_ it meant to him.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean asked, pointing at the packed bags on the floor. He couldn’t pick just one thing to feel angry about, or guilty for that matter. After everything, Cas was just going to up and disappear on him without saying a word. He looked back at Cas, his breath caught in his throat and the threat of tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

 

“You should go,” Castiel said coldly.

 

Dean looked at him, shaking his head in disgust. This wasn’t Cas, the guy he’d shared so much with and gotten so close to. He didn’t know Cas at all if that was all he had to say to him. Dean wiped quickly at his eyes, brushing away the tears with his emotions. He could turn off too, he realized as he stared at the stranger in front of him.

 

“Happy to,” Dean replied as he stepped out the front door, slamming it behind him as a gust of rain hit him outside. He realized he still had no idea who Cas was or where he was from, but he was too done to care anymore.

 

 


	12. Goodbyes

Cas rolled over in his bed and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was past eight and even though he hadn’t been able to sleep all night, he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed either. It was Monday, the day of Dean’s baseball tryouts, and Castiel wasn’t sure how to handle it. Were they still friends? Could they even still be friends?

 

His eyes drifted over towards the open bedroom door and his packed bags beside it. He could have left. He should have left. Cas rolled onto his back and groaned, covering his eyes with both hands. It had turned into so much more than a fight about their kiss--that turned out to be the least of their worries.

 

Dean had used up all of those trips for such frivolous things. It made Cas’ blood boil every time he thought of it. Had Dean changed things between them at some point? The questions swirled around his head as he tried to remember every moment over the past few months. The signs had been there, in fact, if Cas hadn’t been so wrapped up in Dean Winchester, he would have seen it.

 

Of course he’d lost the orb the first day, and the only person he’d spent any time with was Dean. It only made perfect sense that Dean would find it, and of course use it. It wasn’t even that Castiel could blame him. What Dean said had been true. The first week that Dean had attempted juggling school and work had been brutal and there had been such a stark decline in his mood and energy level. That had all gone away far too easily and Castiel knew it wasn’t that Dean’s father had magically given up drinking to start helping their family.

 

It was a catch 22. Cas was mad at Dean for using the orb, but he understood why he did it, and Dean didn’t even know the orb belonged to Cas. And yet, Cas clenched his fists every time he thought of their conversation the night before. Did it matter?

 

The reality was that Cas had to leave. Maybe that’s part of what made him so angry. Being angry would make leaving easier, but Cas didn’t want it to be easy. It would never be easy...The way he felt around Dean had changed him, opened up parts of him that he’d never shared with anyone before.

 

Castiel sat up and shook his head, running his hands through his messy hair. It didn’t matter though. He couldn’t tell Dean the truth without jeopardizing the future, and without the truth, Dean would never trust him again. With his mouth set in a hard line, Castiel took out his phone and texted Chuck.

 

*********

 

The beeping of his alarm startled him awake and Dean opened his phone, his heart sinking even though he knew he wouldn’t have any messages from Cas. It was 7:15, just enough time to barely make it to class without being late. He groaned but rolled out of bed, his eyes sore from the lack of sleep.

 

Dean threw his books into his backpack and looked around his room for his white baseball pants and old team jersey. He had barely slept, woken up late, and still had to make sure he had everything ready for baseball tryouts that afternoon.

 

He dug through his closet quickly, finding his cleats and tossing them across the floor. His normal navy Converse were missing yet again, Sam being the primary suspect. Dean sighed and pulled out another pair from deep within his closet.

 

As he looked around his room, his backpack around his shoulders and his sports bag in one hand, his eyes stopped on his nightstand and he hesitated for a moment. He’d been trying to push aside all thoughts of Cas, to focus instead on getting through the day and avoiding all nervousness about tryouts. In a perfect world, Cas and Sam would be there, Charlie too, to cheer him on. It seemed like that wouldn’t be the case, but if he thought too much about it, he wouldn’t be able to pick himself up from it.

 

He pulled open the door and quickly grabbed the orb, shoving it inside his duffle bag. It wouldn’t hurt to give it back, if Cas was still around that is. Dean knew it was the right thing to do, especially since it was never his to begin with. Maybe Cas could use that extra trip on himself. Dean shook his head and continued down the stairs, calling for Sam as he went.

 

*********

 

Castiel looked around the busy diner, with it’s outdated red and blue seat cushions and checkered tile. It was almost 4:00 and he couldn’t help but think of Dean at his baseball tryouts. The thought of missing it made his mouth go dry with regret.  He pushed the feeling down.

 

He spotted Chuck sitting at a booth on the left, obscured slightly by the bright red bar stools that wrapped around the counter. Chuck waved  as Cas made his way over.

 

Cas sat down and pulled out a manila folder with photos of Dean inside and a flash drive that he handed over. He didn’t wait for Chuck to make small-talk. Part of this was so that Castiel could see him one more time before he left, and also because he couldn’t let these photos go unseen.

 

“Here’s everything I have, I just ask that you cite them from an anonymous source. I don’t want my name on them.”

 

Chuck raised his eyebrows. “Alrighty, I can do that. But I gotta ask, what are you doing here right now?”

 

Castiel sat back in confusion. “We said we’d meet here briefly at 3:45pm.”

 

“You haven’t heard?”

 

*********

 

Dean sat on the bleachers, taking a drink of water as he watched other prospective players line up for their time at-bat. Dean was last to go, which meant he had to sit nervously through everyone else’s time until he was called. He had a sneaking suspicion it was his punishment for bailing on the team for so many years.

 

He looked around and pulled out his phone once again. Sam was supposed to meet him at the field but Dean hadn’t seen him yet. Charlie was also missing. Dean didn’t need to wonder where Cas was, which was the hardest part to swallow. Cas hadn’t shown up to school that day. He figured that Cas really had left after all, to god knows what time or place. All Dean could assume was that it was far away from this time, and he’d probably never see him again.

 

Dean slid his phone into his bag and sat down again, willing himself to cheer up and start doing squats or anything to pretend as if he wanted to be there, instead of curled up in bed. He looked up as he saw feet approaching.

 

Charlie was running over, her red hair flying behind her. Dean stood up and walked forward to meet her but she barreled into him, pulling him tight against her as she sobbed.

 

“Charlie, what’s wrong?”

 

She pulled back from him, her eyes wide and full of tears. “You need to come now. There’s been an accident.”

 

*********

 

Castiel pushed himself out of the diner bench and sprinted towards the door, sending the photos crashing to the floor behind him. The hospital was a good ten blocks away, but it didn’t matter.

 

He sprinted towards the tallest building in town, a hospital with six floors, and probably not the best patient-care. His heart pounded in his chest, hoping that the school rumors were wrong. _Why didn’t Dean call?_

 

He didn’t need to wonder, he knew what it looked like. Maybe Dean wouldn’t even want him there, but he had to try. He knew if he got there in time, he could try to stop Dean from doing what he knew he’d do. Dean didn’t know the rules of time travel and Castiel kicked himself for not explaining last night, for not just being honest. Castiel hoped that Sam was alright and would be sitting up in bed laughing with a broken arm. _He’s fine, he’s going to be fine_ , he kept repeating in his head as his lungs burned in his chest while he ran.

 

Castiel sprinted through the front doors of the hospital and skid to a stop at the information desk.

 

“Sam Winchester,” he said between breaths.

 

The elderly woman typed in the words slowly, one finger at a time on her keyboard.

 

“ICU, room 413”.

 

Castiel heard her call out that it was family only but he didn’t care. He tapped his foot impatiently at the elevator door, wishing he knew were the stairs were. He could barely breath and doubled over in the elevator, knowing that it was partially from the running and partially because he was too upset to think. He had to think though, he _had_ to fix this somehow.

 

As the doors opened, all his movement and plans came to a grinding halt. Dean was in the family area, his shoulders hunched over as he rolled the gold orb between his fingers.

 

Castiel stepped towards him, and his heart nearly stopped as Dean looked up. All emotion was gone from his eyes and his mouth was set in a hard line. His eyes fell to a stack of paperwork on the chair beside Dean. A nurse walked up to Dean and tapped him on the shoulder, her eyes full of concern.

 

“Have you made a decision yet regarding organ donation? I know this is extremely difficult but it’s a time-sensitive decision.”

 

Dean stood up and shoved past her. “This isn’t happening. I’m going to change it, I don’t care what the consequences are.” He took off running past her, one hand closed into a tight fist. Castiel knew what Dean wanted to do, that he thought it was his redemption. It wouldn’t work though and Cas had to stop him.

 

The woman turned to give Castiel a sad shrug but Castiel was already sprinting to follow Dean down the hallway.

 

“Dean!”

 

Castiel sprinted forward as Dean pulled open a door into an on-call room. “I can help,” Castiel began to say but the words died from his lips as the door shut behind him. His eyes met with Dean’s for just a moment as the golden ball opened, followed by a bright flash of light.

 

 


	13. Second Chance

Dean’s alarm went off at 7:15 and Dean rolled over, double checking the date. It was Monday, the day of baseball tryouts. Dean knew where everything was already that he needed. He jumped out of bed and threw his things into his bags. He sprinted towards Sam’s room, noting that his brother was already in the shower. He grabbed Sam’s headphones from his desk and shoved them into his pocket. That wasn’t enough though, Dean had another plan too.

 

Dean ran back to his room and opened his orb, looking at the zero that blinked in the air. This was his only chance to get it right. He snapped it shut and threw it in his backpack. If all went well, Sam wouldn’t be outside to get hit by that car, and he wouldn’t have his headphones in to not hear it coming as it barreled over the median. None of that would happen, and Dean would see Sam sitting safely in the bleachers along with Charlie and that would be enough.

 

*********

 

Dean tapped his foot anxiously as he waited for the bell to ring. The last class of the day was about to start and Dean had skipped his own in order to do this. He pulled out a bottle of red spray paint from his bag and shook it quickly. It was easier to do than he’d imagined. He wrote in big lettering across the expanse of lockers, and made sure to sign Sam’s name to it. Dean stepped back to admire his handiwork.

 

_**Principal Zachariah is a fuckface** _

 

Dean smirked at it and then dropped the can of spray paint in front of Sam’s locker as he went to wash his hands. He only had to wait out the bell, and Sam would soon be called in to the principal’s office. Dean figured Sam would be called straight out of class for it. Their school was small and didn’t have a large number of disorderly students; this wouldn’t be taken lightly. The Winchester name wouldn’t help anything either. As the last bell, Dean stepped out of the bathroom and into the crowded hallway.

 

A loud screeching sound came from the PA speakers and a grin spread across Dean’s face. Sam would hate him for it but he didn’t care.

 

“Dean Winchester to the principal’s office.”

 

Dean stopped in his tracks. Maybe they wanted him to remove Sam from school grounds immediately. A bit harsh but at least Sam would be safe. Dean jogged towards the school office and sat outside the principal’s door, which was closed. He could hear muffled voices within but couldn’t make out any words. _Sam must be in there now_ , he thought to himself.

 

A timer went off on Dean’s phone and he pulled it out, looking at it anxiously. It was 3:30pm, seven minutes away from the time that the car went barreling through two lines and onto the sidewalk. As long as Sam was safely inside the principal’s office getting chewed out, Dean had nothing to worry about. After that, they’d run over to the baseball field to catch the try-outs and Dean would never let his brother out of his sight again.

 

The door to the principal’s office finally opened and Dean’s stomach dropped as the school stoner, Ash, walked out with a grin. He heard the principal call his name but Dean had already rounded the corner, running as fast as his legs could take him. He had to make it.

 

He sprinted out of the school and towards Main Street and 7th. He had maybe one minute left to make it there. Maybe he was wrong, maybe Sam had to stay back at class or maybe he’d stayed to talk to a friend.

 

Dean was still about 100 yards away but he could already tell he was too late. The red car was drifting across the lanes and Dean started to scream as loud as he could. Sure enough, his brother had a pair of headphones in his ears as he bent down to tie the shoes he always stole from Dean.

 

It happened slowly and then all at once. Dean sank to his knees as he watched, and closed his eyes as tears streamed down his face. He tried to catch his breath but all it did was come out in sobs that wracked his body. _This was his only chance_. There wasn’t a universe in which he could see himself being okay after this. _I made it worse_ , he realized, his whole body shaking as he remained on the ground, _I had to see it this time._

 

*********

 

The rest of it was a blur as someone came to get him. A girl from the school found him on the ground. Lisa, maybe? It didn’t matter. She gave him a ride to the hospital. He hadn’t bothered to thank her. His limbs moved on their own, walking lifeless towards the hospital room. It was five o’clock already. Had he really been on the ground for that long?

 

A nurse walked him to the ICU family room and told him to wait in a chair. Bobby was there, inside the room or something. Dean knew it was too late. Maybe Bobby had signed those forms? It didn’t matter to him anymore.

 

He didn’t bother to look up as a pair of familiar shoes stopped in front of him and then took the seat next to him.

 

“I’ll fix this, Dean,” a gravelly voice said quietly. Dean looked up as Cas placed his hands on top of his own. “I promise.”

 

 


	14. Compossibility

Cas threw open the door to his hotel suite and grabbed his notebook from the coffee table. With one swoop he pushed all his other papers, delivery receipts, and schoolbooks onto the floor from the small table outside the kitchen. With a huff he threw himself down onto a chair and ran his hands repeatedly through his hair.

 

With one finger he flipped open the lid of his notebook and looked at smudged date written in the top corner. He’d kept a detailed journal of everything from the day he’d arrived in 2015; the day he’d met Dean.

 

Castiel pored over each day, memorizing every bit of information and writing down additional conversations or interactions as he remembered them. If he was going to do this right, he’d need to be 100% prepared. He couldn’t fathom failing Dean. Castiel looked down at his notebook and paused, dropping his pen.

 

It had been so easy to give up his whole world in order to save Dean’s. The reality of Cas’ decision hit him hard in the stomach and for a moment he felt sick. He had one trip left, and he was going to use to try to save Sam. No, he was going to save Sam; simply trying wasn’t an option. He thought of the look in Dean’s eyes, the pure defeat and helplessness. Castiel knew he’d give anything to take that away, even if it meant sacrificing his own future. He’d come to 2015 to learn about his father, and he’d been so focused on his past that he’d missed the fact that he’d found his future. Somehow he’d found himself, in the friendship of another high school misfit who understood him without having to say a word. If it meant sacrificing what he had thought was his future, he realized that the decision was all too easy to make.

 

Fixing the timeline would take more than just going back one day, it would take ingenuity and planning. Castiel tore a piece of paper out from his notebook and began to draw out the timeplan, slowly forming his plan. Time travel, like all science, had rules. However, years of learning had taught him that all problems have a solution as long as you are willing to find a way. In this case, it was a simple case of re-writing history. _Simple._

 

*********

The alarm on Castiel’s phone buzzed loudly and vibrated on the corner of the table, startling him. He silenced his phone and glanced at the time, rolling his eyes. He’d been up all night. In front of him, the wall where a still-life fruit basket drawing had previously hung, was a vast network of lines on the wall connecting slips of paper with descriptions on them. If everything worked out, Cas wouldn’t need to worry about destroying the wall with his sharpie or the tacks stuck in it--it will have never happened.

 

Taking a step back, Castiel let out a loud exhale as he admired his plan. The problem with Sam’s death was that it was a fixed point in time, an unchangeable event. All the big things were. Dean could make minor alterations by allowing himself to be on time to school or pass a test, but preventing World War II was impossible, or well almost impossible.

 

His father had explained it to him when he was a kid. Time wasn’t linear or just composed of one straight line, but was instead comprised of many parallel lines. However, set events were like knots in a string, and if you change a timeline too much then you move to a completely different timeline altogether. What Cas wanted to do was find a way to go back far enough in time to discreetly alter events so that they simply jumped over the fixed point, but remained on the same timeline.

 

Cas wished it were as simple as pushing Sam out of the way of a moving car or forcing him not to be at school that day. It would be so easy, and Castiel suspected that Dean had done just that. He had to change it so that Sam himself could change his own destiny without knowing it. Castiel rubbed at his tired eyes with his hands and tried to look for any flaws in his plan. The concept was simple enough: go back far enough in time to change a few minor things. The execution was up to him though, and living out the next two months in nearly the exact same way as before.

 

With a deep breath, Castiel took one last look at the diagram on his wall before he opened his time traveling device, spinning the knob with shaky hands.

 

*********

 

Dean turned to hand Castiel his iPod with a wink, “Don’t you dare lose these, Sam will have your head.”

 

“I thought this was yours?”

 

“It is, but Sam uses them more than I do,” Dean said with a shrug. “I don’t mind it.”

 

Castiel nodded, pocketing the device and headphones. “I’ll have it back to you tomorrow.”

 

“No rush on it, Cas. I’m just glad you’re letting someone educate you about music,” Dean said as he clapped Cas on the shoulder with one hand.

 

Cas shook his head and looked down at the ground sheepishly. They were on their way back in from lunch, with Charlie and Dorothy trailing behind them. Castiel looked behind him and grinned. He’d been so focused on finding his father that the first three weeks of school, he’d never properly appreciated the new friends he’d made.

 

They parted as the first bell rang and they all hustled towards their next classes. Castiel was dying to put the next step of his plan into action but he had to wait until he got home. Ironically, for a time-traveler, he felt like time could pass awfully slow sometimes.

 

*********

 

With the iPod on his table, Castiel pulled out a pair of scissors and gently snipped at one of the headphone wires, exposing the metal core only slightly. It would take more wear and tear to cause it to affect the sound, but that was what he was counting on. He rolled the headphone wires back around the small ipod and tucked it tightly into the front pocket of his bag. He’d give it back to Dean the next day and hope that everything went according to plan and that they’d be non-functional the day of Sam’s accident.

 

*********

 

Castiel slowed to a stop as he turned around and noticed Dean trailing behind him. Dean bent over with his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths.

 

“You serious, man? You’ve never played any sports?”

 

“No team sports,” Cas replied with a grin. “I do enjoy running.”

 

He caught Dean’s eyes travel up and down his body quickly as Cas lifted his shirt to wipe away the sweat on his face. Dean strode towards Cas slowly, stretching his arms behind his back.  

 

“That makes more sense,” he said, his voice husky. “You’re kinda nerdy but you’re built like an athlete and yet you told me you have never played sports.” Dean raised an eyebrow, “What other secrets are you hiding?”

 

Castiel attempted a wink as he sat down on the grass by the side of the track. He looked down at the navy Converse on his feet. They were probably half a size bigger than his own shoe size, and very worn-in.

 

“Thanks for letting me borrow these,” Cas said with a small smile. “I must have lost mine while moving.”

 

“Hey, it’s no problem. Sam’s always stealing them anyway so it’s not like I wear them much.” Dean paused and looked at Cas with a soft grin, plopping down next to him on the grass. “I’m just glad you’re here to make sure I train. I appreciate, man.”

 

Castiel looked down at the grass between his legs, picking at a few of the green blades. Baseball tryouts were in a few days. He’d been running with Dean a lot the last few days. The day was fast approaching and Cas felt nearly paralyzed with fear as he thought about it. If his plan didn’t work, nothing would be the same again. He’d enjoyed re-living the past two months; almost too much.

 

Dean pushed at his shoulder and looked at him, his eyes exploring Castiel’s expression. As much as he wanted to confide in him, Cas had to keep quiet and hope that everything worked out. He supposed that wasn’t too different than the first time anyway, when he’d been unable to tell Dean the truth. He looked back at Dean and held his gaze for a long time, his eyes drifting down towards Dean’s lips.

 

With a cough, Dean looked away and pulled out his phone, breaking the moment.

 

*********

 

Castiel pulled the new shoes from his bag and gave Dean an apologetic look, his eyebrows creased in the center.

 

“I’m so sorry. I left yours on the bus, so I wanted to replace them.”

 

Dean laughed and shook his head. “Dude, Cas. That wasn’t necessary at all. Those shoes were shit anyway--always coming untied.” He looked at Cas again, and back down at the shoes in his hand. “Don’t tell Sam I said that.”

Cas grinned and let go of the shoes. “Well you can’t take these back now,” he said while lifting his hands up and away from them.

 

“These are much nicer than my last pair, Cas, come on. I can’t take these.”

 

Castiel cocked his head to the side in confusion. Maybe he’d misjudging the situation, but he thought Dean would be excited. Cas knew his family didn’t have the money to pay for nice things and it was strange to him that Dean wouldn’t want to accept it. He _needed_ to accept it.

 

Dean looked at Cas, all laughter gone. “We’re not a charity case, Cas.”

 

Cas’ heart beat rapidly in his chest. He hadn’t expected this at all. His whole plan hung on this. He looked at Dean, a hurt expression on his face. “I would never think that, Dean.”

 

A long moment passed between them as Dean looked down at the shoes in his hands. “Just this once, Cas.”

 

Castiel nodded, his face solemn. Dean’s eyes softened and he sighed.

  
“I just don’t like being given things like I’m a charity case, Cas. My whole life has been one big charity case, and I know you’re not from here.” He shrugged, “You didn’t know.”

 

“Is lunch on you then?” Castiel asked, deadpanning at Dean.

 

Castiel let out a small breath of relief as a wide grin broke out on Dean’s face. “Sounds fair to me, Cas, and trust me you are getting the _biggest_ burger at the diner today.”

 

Dean slung an arm around Cas’ shoulder, his other hand gripping the new shoes tightly as they walked towards their backpacks on the bleachers.

 

*********

 

Castiel tapped his foot impatiently on the bus as he checked the clock on his phone. He’d skipped school after his fight with Dean the night before. That had been the hardest part of everything. Pretending to be angry with Dean when all he wanted to do was collapse into his arms.

 

If everything went according to plan, he’d show up at the school with just enough time to find Dean. Whether or not it worked and he saved Sam, he felt he should be there. Cas looked up and saw Chuck sitting in the seat across from him, a small smile on his face.

 

“Skip school today, Cas?”

 

Castiel shrugged, “I guess so.”

 

The bus rolled to a stop outside the school and Cas didn’t bother saying anything else to his father as he sprinted off the bus, shoving past a girl in front of him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but didn’t slow down. In his hand he clasped the small golden orb, now devoid of charges. Maybe it just felt like good luck to have it in his hand, but he hadn’t been able to let go of it since he’d woken up that morning.

 

He sprinted across the street, his eyes trained straight ahead on the baseball diamond. The alarm in his pocket went off and Castiel stopped on the sidewalk as he pulled out his phone. He's forgotten that he set that on his first day, for 3:37pm.

 

Cas looked up and turned around to see Sam running towards him, new shoes on. The sound of tires screeching made Castiel turn his head to look behind him as a red car barreled towards him. Castiel felt a hand close tightly around his forearm and then total darkness.

 

*********

 

Castiel woke up, his head groggy as his vision returned to him in a slow haze. He reached for the gold orb but his fingers only clasped sheets in a bed and a thin gown at his sides.

 

A nurse entered the room with a smile and set her chart down at the foot of his bed. As his vision sharpened, he noticed a large cast around his right left. He blinked a few times and looked around the room.

 

“I just need to do a few consciousness checks,” the nurse said gently, wrapping a pressure cuff around his arm. “What year is it?”

 

Cas looked at her and raised his eyebrows before he let out a small chuckle. “I hope it’s 2015.”

 

She gave him a confused glance. “It is. And your name?”

 

“I’m sorry, wait, I need to know what happened? Is Sam okay?”

 

“Who is Sam?”

 

Castiel looked around the small empty hospital room. His heart sank slowly as he realized he was alone, and maybe Dean was still mad at him because of course all Dean would remember is their fight. He was probably celebrating making the team and eating burgers with Sam and Charlie and Dorothy. Cas shook his head slowly. “Nevermind.”

 

There was a small knock at the door and Castiel glanced up slowly, expecting to see the doctor. Instead, Dean stepped in, holding a small paper bag. “I brought you some cheeseburgers and fries,” he said with a sheepish smile.

 

The nurse turned to glare at Dean as she scribbled a few notes onto her chart. “He’s not allowed to eat yet, he just had surgery.”

 

Dean shrugged, “More for me then.”

 

Cas whipped his head around to look at her. “Surgery?”

 

“I’ll explain everything to him,” Dean said with a small smile. The nurse rolled her eyes as she clicked her pen in agreement. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

 

Dean closed the door behind the nurse and then pulled a chair up to the bedside. “I’d ask how you feel but I think you’re looking for some answers.” Dean paused and reached into his pocket, pulling out two identical golden orbs. “I need some answers too, Cas.”

 

“I’ll tell you everything, I promise,” Cas said as he tipped his head back, his body flowing with relief. “Just tell me that Sam is okay.”

 

Dean furrowed his brow in confusion, “I mean, yeah, he has some scrapes and bruises but otherwise he’s good.” Dean shook his head, “He was actually here but I finally sent him home once we knew your surgery was over.”

 

“What happened?” Cas asked cautiously.

 

“You tell me,” Dean said with a shake of his head. “You almost let a car mow you down, Cas. Sam pulled you out of the way,” Dean looked down at the cast on Cas’ leg, “Well, almost.”

 

Castiel let out a small throaty laugh and closed his eyes, resting his head back against the pillows. “That’s not how I planned things, but I can’t say I’m complaining.”

 

“Now you owe me a few answers, Cas,” Dean said, shaking the two small orbs. “I opened mine just after the accident and saw that I didn’t have any more trips left.”

 

Castiel averted his eyes slightly. He still hadn’t decided if he was going to tell Dean the truth about what was meant to happen to his brother.

 

“Sam found this on the ground as figured you’d dropped it,” Dean said as he opened both orbs. “Funny thing is, it’s out of trips.” Dean raised one eyebrow and looked at Cas expectantly.

 

With a sigh, Cas decided to give in. All it took was one look at Dean’s face and his heart melted. He looked exhausted and worried, but most of all, he looked like Dean. As long as Cas didn’t have to see that same look again on Dean’s face when he’d lost Sam, Cas would be happy. He’d relived the last two months with Dean and every second had been worth it. If he had to redo it, Castiel realized he’d make the same decision and that not one ounce of him regretted it. He’d avoided it the first time around but now there was no denying that he was completely and irreversibly in love with Dean Winchester.

 

“I promise I’ll explain, but I need to do one thing first,” Castiel said, his eyes locking with Dean’s.

 

Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion but quickly closed them as Cas pulled at the front of his shirt, pulling him in for a deep kiss. As their lips locked, Cas felt Dean sigh into it and the relief that flooded through both of them.

 

 


	15. Whole Lotta Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka the gratuitous porn chapter

Dean put the car in park and threw a mischievous glance towards Cas in the passenger seat. They’d been through an insane few months but Dean had never felt so happy before. There had been the usual dilemma about Dean admitting their relationship in public, which he’d been unfairly adamant against. In the end, the decision had turned out to be much easier than he’d thought it would be. He could handle locker-room jokes if it meant that he got to be happy with Cas, and maybe he had thrown a few punches too, but it had been worth that too and more.

 

For the first time since they’d met, the whirlwind of life has slowed down. With the end of October, fall was finally in full-swing and Cas finally had his cast off. Dusk came early and Dean savored the time off from work as Bobby took his annual pre-holiday vacation and closed down the shop.

 

Dean crawled over his seat to sit in the backseat and kicked off his shoes, winking at Cas. “What are you waiting for?”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes and sat still in his seat for a moment before turning around again and crawling over his own seat, landing halfway on his back on the back seat, his head landing ungracefully in Dean’s lap.

 

Dean leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Cas’ lips before pulling away quickly. Cas give him a pouty glare, which Dean never got tired of. Cas grabbed at the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him towards him once more, kissing him deeply.

 

They kept their lips locked as they each sat up on their knees, pushing and pulling at one another. Cas ran his hands under Dean’s shirt, moving slowly and embracing every inch of him as their bodies moved closer together as if by magnetic force. Dean tilted his head back and moaned loudly as Cas squeezed his nipples gently.

 

Dean took his own chance to run his fingers down Cas’ soft spine and grip Cas’s hips tightly, pulling him flush against his own body. Their mouths met again, their chests heaving beneath both of them.

 

“Shirt, off,” Cas growled as he bit down gently on Dean’s bottom lip.

 

Dean obliged him, pulling off his dark green Henley in one practice motion. Castiel did the same, slowly pulling his buttoned linen shirt over his head. Dean licked his lips, appreciating every inch of Cas’ tanned and toned body.

 

Cas pushed Dean onto his back and slowly crawled up his body, licking his way slowly up from Dean’s naval to the center of his chest. Dean closed his eyes and moaned again, his cock rock hard in his jeans. It didn’t take much from Cas to get him ready, but this was especially tantalizing.

 

Dean wrapped an arm around Cas’ neck and pulled him down against him, their chests rubbing against one another. Dean tilted his hips upward, rubbing his crotch against Cas’.

 

Cas laughed and looked down at Dean. “Do you want to do more?”

 

They hadn’t really moved past handjobs and blowjobs yet, but Dean finally felt ready. He knew it was new for Cas too, but the sexual tension between them had started to become so unbearable that even Sam couldn’t stand to be in the same room with them.

 

Dean grabbed at the button on Cas’ pants and gave him a sly grin. “Only if you do,” he replied.

 

Cas responded in suit, quickly undoing Dean’s pants. They both had to sit up for a moment in order to completely remove all clothing in the tight space of the Impala backseat. It didn’t help that both of them were tall and of strong build. Dean threw his pants onto the driver’s seat and lay back down against the back seat, angling his legs so that they hung off onto the side.

 

The sun had set and through the window, Dean could see the stars just starting to appear in the night sky. They were parked on the outskirts of town, close to where Dean had first met Cas. Hidden by darkness and wild wheat grass along the shoulder of the cracked asphalt. Dean couldn’t think of a better night.

 

Cas pressed himself against Dean again, for the first time completely naked together against one another. Dean reached for Cas’ cock, long and hard, stroking it several times. With his other hand, he took his own and closed his eyes, stroking both slowly as Cas watched. He peeked open one eye to look at Cas, whose eyes were closed as a small flush crept up his face.

 

Dean panted as he felt the rub of his dick against Cas’, both wet with pre-come. Cas let out a moan and his body shuddered slightly.

 

“Dean,” he whispered, covering Dean’s hand with his. “I’m close.”

 

Cas pressed his body against Dean’s again, kissing him passionately. Dean pulled his feet onto the seat and wrapped his legs around Cas, pulling him tightly towards him again. Cas reached beneath the seat for the bottle of lube and condom that he knew Dean had stored back there for his very purpose.

 

Castiel asked Dean once again if he was okay. Dean rolled his eyes, “Fuck, Cas, yes. I’ve waited so long for this.”

 

It didn’t take much more encouragement than that. Cas slipped the condom onto his dick and lube onto his fingers. He went slowly, pressing one finger gently in Dean and watched the way Dean’s body rose and fell with each movement, panting slightly and begging for more each time. Cas closed his eyes as a his cock pressed gently against Dean and brushed against his inner thigh.

 

After three fingers, Dean was practically screaming for Cas to hurry up and Cas was gripping Dean’s sides because he was already so close just from watching Dean writhe beneath him.

 

Cas slid his cock into Dean slowly, and Dean raked his fingers down Cas’ back as the completely new sensation traveled throughout his body. He felt so full and it was almost painful but so good at the same time. He’d had sex with plenty of women but this was sex in a whole new way. With Cas, everything was as if it was safe and new and made him feel as if he’d become whole again.

 

“Move,” he whispered to Cas through breaths. Cas’ skin glimmered faintly with sweat and his lips were slightly swollen from all the biting and pulling they’d done. Dean suspected his lips looked much the same. His hair was even more of a mess than it typically was and Dean found himself once again considering how lucky he was.

 

As soon as Cas thrust into him more, all bets were off and Dean groaned loudly as Cas hit just the right spot. Dean tilted his hips upwards and closed his eyes, panting obscenely. He pulled Cas in just a little deeper until he was sure he couldn’t take anymore, his own cock red and full as it flopped on his stomach with each movement.

 

Cas noticed and began to move his hand up and down Dean’s shaft as he thrusted into Dean. It didn’t take long for both of them to come with loud emphatic sounds.

 

Dean grinned slowly as he pulled Cas on top of him, ensuring they were both a disgusting mess. Cas placed a soft kiss on Dean’s lips and sighed, allowing himself to settle on top of Dean.

 

“It was good?” Dean murmured into Cas’ hair.

 

“Very,” Cas replied, looking back up at Dean with a small smile.

 

Dean looked at Cas and smiled, saying the words that he never thought would be possible. “I love you, Cas.”

 

It felt good to say and it didn’t surprise him when Cas sat up slightly with a smile. “I love you too, and always will, Dean.”

 

 


	16. Epilogue

Castiel watched his father approaching from across the parking lot, a light winter snow falling around them. True to his decision to remain in 2015, Cas had distanced himself as much as he could from Chuck in order to prevent any problems in the future. It had been ironic, his entire reason for traveling had been to meet and know his father. Yet here he was, attending the same high school as him and he’d had to keep his distance.

 

When Chuck had texted him about meeting at the school, Castiel had been surprised. He wasn’t aware he had his number, and was even more surprised that he’d want to meet during their winter break. It made Castiel apprehensive, and he kept checking his phone nervously and texting Dean as he waited on the steps of the school.

 

Chuck made his way up the steps, his dark green parka pulled tightly around him. He looked at Castiel and Cas was surprised to see a familiar look in his eye, one that reminded him of the man he’d grown up with, despite his awkward teenager clothing and appearance, there was no mistaking that tone.

 

“Thank you for coming, Castiel,” he said, the words carefully chosen.

 

“Yeah, no problem, Chuck. What’s up?”

 

Chuck opened his coat and pulled out a manila envelope with his name on the front and handed it to Cas. “I saw Dean’s car parked in the lot waiting for you. I need you to open this once you’re inside and not before. I hope it has the answer you’ve been looking for.”

 

Castiel looked down at the envelope, furrowing his eyebrows. When he looked up again, his father was striding quickly across the parking lot to a waiting car.

 

“Wait,” he called out, but Chuck didn’t stop.

 

Cas gripped the envelope in one hand and rushed back towards Dean’s waiting car, anxious to open it.

 

He sat down inside the car and looked at Dean. “He gave me this and told me to open it in the car with you.”

 

Dean nodded and scooted closer, one hand resting on Cas’ thigh.

 

Castiel opened the envelope and a small gold orb rolled out. He held it up to Dean who looked at it with wide green eyes.

 

“I think we should read the note,” Dean said urgently.

 

**_Castiel,_ **

**_You and Dean need to travel to the future to save the world. All the proper documents and forms are enclosed. I apologize for forcing this problem on you two, but it directly involves your futures and you must do this together. I returned to this time to wait to tell you because it was imperative that you two meet and this timeline remain intact. I hope this explains my disappearance when you were a child, Castiel, and that you can forgive me for it. I’m stuck living out my life in this manner for risk of creating a time paradox by leaving 2015. I’m leaving this to both of you. I believe in you and I’m sorry that I can’t explain more. Say hello to your mother for me._ **

**_-Chuck_ **

****

Dean and Cas raised their eyes slowly towards one another and took deep breaths.

 

“I guess we’re graduating early, Cas,” Dean said with a grin.

  
  
  
  
  
  
_END_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was loosely inspired by the movie "The Girl Who Leapt Through Time", which I highly recommend checking out! 
> 
> I was also heavily inspired by the idea of retrocasuality (which I first read about in "Childhood's End" by Arthur C. Clarke and later in physics). Writing is hard, especially when it involves time travel! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


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